It Hurts
by rhysdelmar95
Summary: Inspired by the S9 Trailer Cas had watched the angels fall and with them, his self worth. Now human facing the challenges of navigating mortality he also tries to find a place for himself in this new world. It is a hope he has to find without the Winchesters, without Dean. So now he runs, from both Heaven, Hell and from Dean.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello! This was inspired by the Season Nine trailed and whatever snippets I was able to gleam from it. Like my previous work, this is set after the Season 8 finale and is canon compliant. Unlike that previous work, I will focus just on Cas and Dean and they interactions with each other. This is a Destiel story, eventually, and there will be angst and hurt/comfort. This will be updated every couple of days or so.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of their characters from CW. I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story. Any and all real persons and situations are purely coincidental.

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The first thing he noticed was how limited his perception was. He had to actually open his eyes to see, and when he did, he saw that he was under some trees. There were uncomfortable spots that felt were being pressed into his back. It dawned on him he was laying down, and for a split second he thought he was in the chair Metatron strapped him into. Then he remembered, he remembered his grace being taken from him and being sent back down to Earth.

The angels, Metatron was going to expel all the angels. Scrambling up he had no idea where to go, so he blindly and quickly went forward. He needed to see the sky, he needed to see what has happening. There was no need to go far, he reached the shore of the lake soon enough. What he saw devastated him...his brothers and sisters were falling. They were being forced out of their home and in flames, falling to Earth.

Immense guilt washed over him like it has never before. On top of that guilt was also sadness and anger. Anger that he was tricked by Metatron. Guilt because if it wasn't for him, this wouldn't have happened. Sadness because yet again, he had failed to heed the warnings, failing to listen to Dean. He looked around, this was not the same lake the brothers were at. In fact, he had no idea where he was. Trying to look past his falling brethren, he could see some constellations. He was in the northern hemisphere at least, but there was no way to pinpoint an exact location.

What should he do? He was a graceless angel lost in the wilderness with no means of communication or transport. It was highly likely that once they landed, the angels would come after him. They may be expelled from Heaven, but there was a possibility they may have retained their powers. He on the other hand was human, completely human. Even the weight of his wings was gone. This was dissimilar from his previous near human state. In that time, he still had a miniscule amount of grace, even if it was tied up in keeping his wings out of the earthly plane.

Looking back up, his siblings were falling less and less. For the first time, he felt alone, cut off from all support. He had no idea what to do, or how to even fix this. The only thing he could do right now was run.

Walking all night, it was early morning when he finally encountered a road. It looked like a small service road that was hardly used by the looks of it. Picking to go left for no reason, he continued his walk. He figured he had walked for several hours non-stop and he was beginning to tire. It was different from when he was an angel. His grace could become weak, where he could no longer access his powers and he may lose control of his vessel. It would appear like he was asleep, but in truth, his grace was just reconnecting with his vessel. Now though, his _body_ felt tired, there was no filter of his grace to shield him.

He heard something behind him and he turned around quickly to see a fast approaching truck coming right toward him. Instinct kicked in and he jumped out of the way. The impact of landing was uncomfortable and there was a pain on his hand that took the brunt of the fall. Looking over to see that the truck had stopped, he then looked at his hand.

"It hurts." he said more surprised than concerned. Yes, he had felt pain before, but as before, it was filtered through his grace. Now there was nothing to stop the feeling of throbbing pain. Looking at it, he knew it would not heal quickly. As far as injuries go, this was small, but the impact of it hammered in the fact that he was human once and for all.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Are you ok?!" asked a small woman in a skirt running towards him from the truck.

Looking at her than his hand, "it is only a minor injury, otherwise I am unhurt." Pushing himself up, he took a closer look at her. She was a young woman with long black hair and skirt. Her face appeared to hold genuine concern and apology.

She took his hand without asking and looked it over. "Whew…it's not bad. I'm sorry, I didn't even see you at all. What brings you out here?"

"I…got lost." he replied, then added, "my…uh, car isn't working and I do not possess a cell phone any longer."

She gave him a concerned frown, "let me give you lift into town, it's the least I can do for almost running you over. And I have a first aid kit in the car."

Thinking it over, he nodded. "Yes, that would be much appreciated. May I ask where we are?"

"You're that lost?" she asked with a small smile.

"I…am not familiar with this area."

"Not a problem, let's get you patched up." She tugged him along to the cab where she cleaned the wound and made sure nothing was in it before wrapping it in gauze. Then she moved over to the driver's seat and once he closed the door, began driving. Before getting in he spied the license plate, which was registered to Colorado.

"What's your name?" she asked politely after they had driven a bit.

"Cas." he looked out the window, "which town are we going to?"

"Oh, it doesn't really have a name, it's not far from Blue Lake. My name is Esther."

After a half hour, they came across a small town, which was just a gas station, a store and a few houses clumped around the two lane road. She got out and so did he, not wanting to impose, he slipped out as well. His feet though felt sore still, so he sat on the curb next to the gas pump.

"You don't have a car do you?" Esther asked when she came back from inside the station. She seated herself next to him.

He looked down, "no."

"So where are you headed?" she asked.

Where was he headed? He had no place to go. He could try to call Dean, but would Dean even want to talk to him. He would probably blame him, and rightly so, for all the angels falling. Even if Dean wanted him back, he would only place him in danger. No, it was better to be as far from him as possible. So he simply replied, "I don't know."

She gripped his shoulder, "tell you what, I was heading over to Glenwood Springs today, so if you want to come with, you can."

He looked up, "I don't have any money to repay you."

"I nearly ran you over, so don't worry about it." She got up, "now c'mon, let's get going." He climbed back into the cab as she did and off they went. They were heading southwest as best he could guess by the position of the sun. It appeared that he had landed in a mostly rural area. Once in a more urban setting, he'll try to figure out what he can. Cities were easier to disappear in, and that was the ideal choice. Then he noticed that they were getting onto a small dirt road off the main one.

He looked over at her about to ask her why, but she cut him off. "Don't worry Castiel, it's a shortcut."

"I never told you my full name." he said slowly, suddenly on guard and simultaneously, afraid.

She looked over and he saw a flash of blue light in her eyes. Immediately, he grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it over, changing course to some concrete blocks on the side of the road. It was only a second before they hit it nearly going fifty miles per hour.

He woke up with more aches on his chest and shoulder. Moving his check, he felt the dried blood flake off a little. Opening his eyes and looking up, he saw that there was a huge hole in the windshield and blood everywhere. Unlocking the seatbelt that prevented him the same fate, he went to see who this person really was. He was a bit unsteady on his feet, but he walked over to where she had landed. Her legs were plainly broken and she was cut up immensely. Still, she was alert and mobile like no human could be after such injuries. The only possible explanation was that she was an angel.

She sneered at him when he approached. Seeing an angel blade on the ground, he picked it up. "Don' you think you've done enough Castiel?" she said with venom.

He looked down at his sister. Obviously, the fallen angels had kept a part of their grace, still, her injuries looked painful and a small wave a nausea rose up in him. Still, she was family and her expulsion was because of him. "I want to help you."

"Help angels? After what you did?" she spat back. "Look what your 'help' did Castiel! You cast us out of Heaven! You killed thousands of us, stopped the divine plan, imprisoned Michael and killed Raphael! We don't need your help."

The guilt of what he did once again fell over him. "Yes…I know," he replied resigned. "But I did it because I thought it was for the best, for the greater…"

She spit out some blood. "For who? For the humans? They aren't worth it Castiel. When I saw you, I tried to run you down. You're better off to everyone if you were dead."

That hurt, an ache in his chest began and he knew who might be right. He's done so much more damage than good. Every attempt he had made either ended in him dead or unleashing something evil. It was only because of the Winchesters there was a world, not him. All he had done was, as Dean would say, mess it up. He dropped the blade.

"You are probably right, I do deserve death." He looked at her right in the eye. "But not today." Seeing that in time, she would heal, he walked away.

It was late evening when he made it to Glenwood Springs. He had kept to the side roads or wooded areas as best he could once he approached the town. Seeing a bloody person walking around usually raised suspicion, something he couldn't risk. Seeing a Laundromat open, he walked in. It was empty, but there was a camera on the wall, he figured someone was watching remotely. Heading into the restroom, he cleaned himself best he could. However, his cloths were still bloody.

Digging into his pockets, he was able to fish out a couple of dollars that Dean had given him a long time ago. Stepping out of the restroom, he changed the bills to quarters and looked at the machine. After a few minutes of trying to determine how to use it, he stripped his clothes and placed it all in the wash. As he closed the lid and pushed the button, he spied the candy machine. His stomach growled at the sight of food. Looking down again, he saw that he only had enough change to dry his clothes.

He sighed and sat down. His feet and legs were incredibly sore. Now his stomach was making itself loudly heard by growling its emptiness. More importantly…he was tired. Realizing that he will need to sleep soon, he looked outside. It was early summer, but this high up in the mountains, it would be chilly at night. His overcoat was barely able to keep in his body heat from the previous night. Sitting quietly in his boxers, keeping the hunger down and the sleep away, he thought about what to do. This town was too small to hide in. Denver was the closest largest city, but that was well over a hundred miles away. He would need to either walk or hitch a ride. Neither prospect seemed appealing.

Then the buzzer sounded and walked over to the washer. Taking out his cloths, there was pink tint to his shirt, and most of the blood was still visible. It also seemed that the clothes had shrunk, and he threw it down in anger. Now he quite literally had nothing. Hopelessness began to rise in him and for a moment, all he wanted to do was cry. Pulling himself together, he looked around. There had to be something here that he could use.

In the back, there was a box that was had clothes in it. Must been clothes left behind by various patrons beforehand. Rummaging through it, he was able to piece together an outfit. Granted, two of the shirts had holes and cargo pants thin, but it would serve. Walking back to his clothes, he salvaged the socks, and threw the suit into the trash.

The coat though, he looked at it hard. He had worn this coat for almost five years. In a sense, it has become a part of his identity as this vessel, now body, has. More importantly, Dean had kept it safe while he lived as Emmanuel. It confused him a bit why Dean had held onto it. Now he realized it was because it represented hope to Dean of his return. No, this coat didn't belong in the trash. Though still wet and specks of blood were on it, he put in the box he found the clothes in. It was too dangerous to keep, but too precious to through away. Perhaps one day, another person might find a use for it.

Stepping into the cold night air, he took a deep breath. He was so tired. With the left over change from not drying his clothes, he did buy a candy bar. However, he only nibbled at it and his stomach demanded more. Sighing, he tucked he rest away and looked around. Soon he wouldn't be able to stay awake, he needed sleep. He walked a couple of blocks before he found a secluded spot that looked safe enough to take a nap. Nestling in the backdoor of an abandoned minimart, he crossed his arms and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

It was cold, and over the night, it had seeped past his meager layers and into his body. He awoke shivering, and on top of that, his stomach immediately made it known that it was empty still. It was still mostly dark but the far horizon was beginning to lighten. Dawn was not far off from now. Running his tongue over his lips, he felt how chapped they were. That also brought the realization that he needed to drink something too. The soreness from all the walking and car impact had not yet left him either. One hand was still wrapped in gauze, and that throbbed as well.

He did not have a watch or a phone, so he had no idea how long he had slept. Thankfully, he had not dreamed, once he closed his eyes, his mind went blank from all the exertion of the previous day. However, whatever sleep he had gathered was short, and given his shivering state, his body had clearly not rested. His limbs felt stiff, but light. It must be his low blood sugar levels. Trying to move as little as possible, he broke off another piece of the candy bar and took a few bites. It was woefully insufficient to fuel his body for the day.

Food, along with money is going to be difficult to obtain. He had no identification, no appreciable skills and underdeveloped people skills. He knew in large cities there might be soup kitchens and homeless shelters that he may seek assistance from. Smaller towns might not support that. That presented the problem of getting to a city though.

Not for the first time, he considered calling Dean for help. The question if Dean would help him though was uncertain. Once again he failed to heed Dean and recklessly went on doing what he believed was right. If he can't forgive himself, why should Dean…or anyone else for that matter. Serving another self-imposed penance didn't work last time, but that was at Naomi's machinations that it didn't. Sighing, he slowly unraveled himself and once was up, he began walking. It was a tradeoff, moving would warm him up but drain more energy. Yet he knew that though he would be hungry, the effects of it would not be detrimental for a long while.

Several blocks later, he found a park that had a water fountain he could drink from. Now the sun was up and people were beginning to go about their daily lives. Apparently the hundreds of falling people the previous night didn't faze them. It was curious that in this day and age, most people were willing to cling to the flimsiest excuse as long as it wasn't supernatural. In ages past, humans thought everything was supernatural, but now…it was anything but. The angels themselves seemed unaffected by the fall as far as their powers went. With no wings though, they were limited to travel by conventional means.

Drinking the free water, he looked around. The park was deserted save for some early morning joggers. Jimmy was a runner, and was health conscious in his eating habits. He wondered at times if Jimmy was still with him, but there had been no sense from his soul in many years. It was possible that God took him out but equally possible that he burned the poor man out. Both ways, there was no way for him to know and it was just another burden of guilt he had to bear. Thinking of Jimmy had him realize that he could no longer use his name. Castiel or even Cas was too identifiable to him. So to honor Jimmy, he was going to resume using this vessels original name.

The hunger gnawed at him once again. He had to find something to eat, something more than just a nibble of chocolate here and there. Sadly, even with all his knowledge, he had no idea on where to begin finding food. He knew people went to stores to get their food, but that required money, money he does not have. This new life was forced upon him, but he was going to adapt to it as best he could.

He kept to the side streets and alleys, making his way slowly to the east, to Denver. By chance, he was walking behind a supermarket when he meet a man. The man was waiting behind some bushes out of sight from most but not to him. By looks, he was perhaps near in age, Caucasian with long brown hair in clothing seemed baggy and well worn. Seeing him the man motioned for him to come over. Being wary of another trap, he cautiously approached.

"You here for to dive too?" he asked.

He tilted his head, "dive? I do not see any water to dive into."

The man laughed, "oh man, that was funny as hell. No, I mean, I thought you were a freegan by your looks." He looked at the long haired man confused. "You know, a person who takes only what others throw away, like that feed store here. They throw away a lot of edible stuff because it's past its 'prime', but it's still good to eat."

All that he heard was free food. Yes, there was a danger that such food was contaminated, but that would always be a risk in his perspective. "May I join you?"

The man held out his hand, "more power to the people man, sure! Name's David."

"Jimmy." he replied taking the hand and shaking it. That was one social skill he did know about.

David smiled, "ok man, so, we have to be fast. They try to only throw away what they can't resell and time it when the garbage man comes." He nodded. After a few moments, some workers came out with boxes of and threw them into an enclosed area into what he assumed was a bin. When they went back in, he and David scrambled over. Once over the fence, he and David leaned into the bin that David had propped open. Inside was mostly fruits and vegetables that he assumed looked good enough to eat. David had a large cloth bag and began picking through the refuse to find the most edible ones. Seeing that he did not have one, David was kind enough to pick some for him too.

For several moments they waited before they both went over the fence again and quickly walked away. They stopped at was a small parked tucked away from the rest of town. Taking out the food, David explained to him why he picked this one, how to clean them and eat them. He had chosen mostly bananas, oranges and grapefruit since they had their own organic covering. In the nearby drinking fountain, they cleaned the ones they were going to eat. Unable to contain his hunger, he greedily ate two oranges and a banana.

After they were done eating, they sat in the park and talked. Figuring that he was what he termed a 'floater' and new to it, he kindly instructed him on how to survive on the streets. David was not a transient per se, he described himself as a wanderer, a modern day gypsy. He had been in town the past couple of weeks, staying with some likeminded friends of his. Going on in depth about consumerism and other political ideals he cared little for, Cas began to think about the next step. Thanks to David, he had discovered a potential source of food if he knew how to do it right. Still, heading over to a city was best. Thanking David for the knowledge he shared, he was surprised to find that David gave him the bag along with all their food they had gotten. Getting up, they both said good byes and headed in opposite directions.

He was getting to the outskirts of the city when he finally encountered a pay phone. Putting in the money, he dialed the last number Dean had given him.

It rang only twice before Dean answered tensely, "who's this?"

"Hello Dean."

"Cas! What the hell is going on?" Dean asked in a low worried tone.

"Metatron tricked me." he replied in a matter of fact tone. "He used my grace to complete the spell to expel all the angels."

"That dick! Knew we shouldn't have trusted him. Listen Cas, I'm at a hospital with Sam…he's not doing so great." There was a pause. "You Cas…without your grace…you're"

"Human," he completed. "I am sorry I cannot help you, in healing Sam." He was going to keep this simple and to the point.

"Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter Dean. An angel has already come after me and I will not endanger you or Sam. It is preferable to remain hidden. Please do not come looking for me. I have to find a way to fix this. I am sorry Dean." He quickly hung up before Dean could respond. Once there was that click, a painful sensation in his chest along with a wave of sadness and bitterness crashed over him. Taking deep breathes; he left the phone as quickly as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

When the line went dead, he stopped in the hallway in astonishment that Cas had the gall to hang up on him. Telling him that he's human because Metatron took his grace and then not to look for him. That son of a bitch! If he wants to go off into the wild blue yonder looking to fix his damn problem again, he can do it. He wasn't going to look for him, not this time. If he wants to go off and leave him alone, then so be it. He'll be damned if he's going to let this eat him up. Dumb bastard got himself into this, he can get himself out. Even though he was angry as hell, inside he broke a little bit, because Cas was once again choosing to leave them. Leaving him. But there other problems to deal with, the biggest one was his brother recovering in the hospital room down the hall.

He noticed that he was near the chapel, and for some reason, he went inside. This was almost too much for him to handle. The night before he and Sam watched the angels fall, but Sam was barely holding together when they stumbled out of the church. After stowing Crowley into the trunk they headed back to the Bunker. Along the road back home, they called Kevin, who told them about all the bunker lighting up like a Christmas tree. They asked for him to look for info on the knights of Hell and he and Sam talked about the current situation.

Sam looked better by the time they had arrived back home. Kevin was not happy about Crowley being in the bunker, but he was going to suffer through it like them all. At least they had a nice new dungeon to keep the ex-king contained. Sam immediately went over to his room and he, well he just drank trying to think about this new world they created. Fallen angels, Abaddon and a missing Cas. Eventually, he fell asleep.

When Sam failed to get up, he checked in with his little giant of a brother. He was passed out still, sprawled out in the bed. Calling him, he got no response and that worried him. When he felt Sam, he was burning up again. Panicking, he called Kevin and together they dragged Sam to the car where he drove like a maniac to the nearest hospital. They immediately put Sam in and after a few tense hours, they were able to stabilize Sam. However, he still not woken up and the doctor said he was in God's hands now. The inclination to punch to doctor out was strong, but he fought it down. So he sat by Sam until the phone rang.

Taking a seat in the small sacred space, he saw that he was alone. With Sam pretty much in a coma, Cas disappearing and all the other crap that was happening, he knew he needed help. Or, at the very least, vent. "This is Dean Winchester, and I need help." he began. "I know that I've called you a douchebag and whole lot of other names, and I still mean them. But…I need help. I don't know what to do. Everything is so fucked up right now, with Sam out. God…please, just this once…help us." For a while, he sat there, just hoping that the big guy will do something. After a while with no divine revelation, he got up.

Leaving the chapel, he turned around to head back to Sam when a small woman grabbed his neck. She was obviously not human to easily lift him up, though he blindly tried to fight her off.

"Where is he?" she asked in a threating tone. His response was kicking her loosening her grip so he fell to the floor. Once he was down though, another man kicked him across the hallway. A couple of orderlies tried to break up the fight but were thrown across the room. People were running away from this scuffle. He tried to get up but he needed to protect Sam as well. Figuring that these guys are angels given that the eyes weren't black and they must've been asking for Cas.

The man grabbed an ax from the emergency station and together, he and the woman began walking toward him. Scrambling as best he could, it was not enough to escape them. The woman grabbed by the collar after the man punched him in the face for a couple moments almost knocking him out. They dragged up into a chair in the now deserted floor.

"Where is he?" the woman asked. "Where is Castiel?"

After spitting out a little bit of blood, he responded, "I don't know. He wouldn't tell me." Perhaps Cas had the foresight not to tell him precisely for this reason. If that was a good or bad call, the next few moments would tell. In either case, it proved that one of the reasons Cas running away was moot. Bastard.

"You lie." the man with the ax said. "He favors you, he would tell you where he is."

"Yeah, he doesn't tell me anything anymore."

The female angel tilted her head, "then call for him."

"Pfft, he's wingless like all of you." He didn't want to disclose Cas was graceless either. Evidently, they had kept their angelic strength, if they lost their wings though, they probably couldn't zap anywhere. If they could, they would be on Cas faster than white on rice.

"Then how does he contact you?"

"Smoke signals." he retorted. "Look, all I know is that it was Metatron who did this to you guys. He tricked Cas!" Better to place the blame on the person who actually did the deed, maybe get some heat off Cas.

"Impossible. The Scribe has been gone for ages." ax angel said.

"Oh no, he's been camping down here reading away, hiding from all you dickheads"

"Rehiel, let him go." A third person said, causing all three of them to look at the newcomer. He was a tall dark blond man that was physically well built. He also had an angel blade in one hand as well.

"Why Ezekiel? Dean Winchester is the best chance of finding Castiel and fixing what he did." Rehiel replied.

"If it was Metatron that tricked Castiel, then he is not the cause. He is a victim as much as we are." Ezekiel said sternly while coming closer.

The angel with the ax stepped in front of Ezekiel, blocking his way. "There are many sins that Castiel has to answer for."

"And who are we to judge him? I know just as well as you do what he did brother, but he did it for the greater good, to protect Father's creation. Don't you see that?" Ezekiel said.

The angel with the ax did not reply but simply swung the ax at him. Ezekiel though stopped him by stabbing him in the back. Feeling the hold on him slacken, he twisted himself out of the hold he was in and began running away back to Sam's room. He saw the light and the shockwave coming behind him breaking the glass. Ducking into Sam's room, the rolled onto the floor as the door shattered behind him. Once it had passed, he got up and check on Sam. Even with all the commotion, he still had not woken up. The door to the room opened and Ezekiel walked in. Dean leveled his gun on him, but the angel threw up his hands.

"I mean no harm." he simply said.

"Alright." he lowered the gun. "What happened back there."

"They were angels, like I am. Since Castiel killed Raphael, it has been chaos in Heaven. Angels split up into fractions. They were from an opposing one."

"And what about you?" He was wary about this new guy.

Ezekiel smiled briefly. "I was with Castiel when he fought against Raphael. I share his sentiment on free will."

So he was a friend of Cas. And he did just same him, so that bought him some brownie points. If the angels still had their strength maybe they still have their powers. "I know you just saved my bacon, but…is there anything you can do for him?" he asked waving toward Sam.

"I can try." Ezekiel walked over and touched Sam's forehead. "There…is a lot of damage, it's…like he's burning on the inside from some sort of energy. I can't heal him because there's too much of it."

The energy from the trials, the purifying light he had seen. It was cooking Sam the inside out. "Is there a way you can get rid of it? Place it someplace else?" he pleaded.

Ezekiel thought some a moment, "perhaps. I can absorb some and direct some into another body. It might be enough to let him heal on his own."

"Do it. To me." he stated. He was supposed to be the one to do this anyway, he should take some of the burden now. Ezekiel nodded. Touching both their foreheads, he felt the tingling warmth flow into him. It was like Cas's grace when he heals him. Except this time, it felt like it settled into his very bones, making him feel warm. Breaking the connection, he looked over at Sam.

His brother stirred a little bit before opening his eyes. "Dean?" he asked tiredly. He let out a breathe he hadn't noticed he was keeping in. Sam was awake, thank god.

Making a quick exit from the hospital, they drove back to bunker with Ezekiel in tow. He had saved both brothers in one day and that makes him OK in Dean's book of friends. On the way over, the angel explained what was happening in Heaven over the past couple of years. It basically boiled down to complete chaos. With no direction, a lot of angels feel into factions with different ideas on what to do next. Naomi was apparently a major player, having a substantial following. Ezekiel himself along with others in Cas's former army were more neutral, keeping the peace between factions as they explored their own free will. Now everyone was on equal footing, but a great deal of angels assumed that Castiel had some hand in their current situation. That was true, but after telling him what happened to the best of his knowledge, Ezekiel agreed that Cas had been duped.

Back at the bunker, he was getting dinner ready when Sam came in. "Hey Dean, Ezekiel told me about what you guys did…thanks."

He shrugged, "you were burning up man, had to do something."

"So…Cas. He ok?" Oh no, he knew that tone from Sam. That was his touchy feeling time tone.

"Hell if I know. Son of a bitch didn't say." He slammed the pan on the stove hard, "he wouldn't even say where he was. All he said was basically Metatron tricked me, good bye, don't look for me and hung up."

"So…is he human?" Sam probed.

"Well, Metatron sucked out his grace so I guess he is now." he replied roughly, keeping his back to Sam.

"Dean, he's not going to last long out there. He had no money, no place to go, no friends. Oh, and half of Heaven wants him dead or worse."

Turning around, "and what do want me to do!? Drop everything and go look for the dumb son of a bitch! I did that in Purgatory and still he left me! I don't need that kind of guilt again Sam! So he can go fix this himself and live under a bridge for all I care. We have other shit to deal with."

"Ok, yeah I know that Dean. But he's our friend, you can't be serious in just letting him…go, like that."

"Even if I wanted to go look for him, which I don't, we don't know here he is. He could be in Alaska for chrissakes. He doesn't want to be found…and I don't want to find him. We have the King of Hell in the dungeon, a friggin Knight of Hell and the host of heaven to deal with. Not to mention that you Sam, you're still not a hundred percent either. So don't try pulling he's out friend card on me again for Cas. He's on his own."

"Dean…" Sam said in a concerned voice. Ignoring it, he turned back to stove and began cooking the steaks for dinner. So there was an ache in his chest and a sick feeling in his stomach, and maybe yeah, he was fighting back tears. But Cas wanted him…them out, then they're out.

"You want yours well done?"

"C'mon, you can't mean that…"

Still ignoring the question, "ok, well done. Some protein would be good for you. Can't eat a salad every day." Even though he had his back to his brother, he knew Sam gave up and walked away. Sighing, he tried to keep his emotions in check and plastered on his strong face. He didn't want to admit he did want to go find Cas. But to go after him meant shucking his other responsibilities, so he had to let him go.


	4. Chapter 4

A week had passed since he had fallen and it still hasn't gotten any easier being human. If anything it had gotten more difficult. After he had hung up the phone on Dean, the aching feeling he felt was different than anything else he had ever experienced. His emotions he was finding out, were much closer to his conscious and as times, impulsive. As an angel his grace was functioned as a filter between his vessel and his true self. When he had his grace, he could 'process' in a sense what he felt and push it aside in his mind. Now he cannot do that, at least, not as easily as he could before.

If he had to name the emotions that had been plaguing him, it would be grief, guilt, sadness and anger. Anger because he was tricked. He did what he thought was best for everyone, for his friends and family. Now he had only earned their scorn and hate. Sadness because he could no longer feel his wings a huge part of him. Guilt because he was indeed guilty of so many terrible crimes. Grief because the burden of these emotions weighed on him heavily. And because of the grief he had caused the world, his family, the Winchesters…to Dean.

He looked out the window again to see the passing hills fly by. A trucker had stopped and picked him up by the side of the road earlier in the day. The driver said it was the good Christian thing to do, to help those who needed it. When she said that, he almost laughed, but he bit his tongue and took her offer. She was kind middle aged woman named Rose, and she seemed to be genuine in her belief of helping others. If he was still an angel, he could've seen into her very soul. Now he had to rely on what Dean would call his gut feeling. How his digestive system played into making decisions besides hunger escaped him. Still, this ride would bring him into the city.

The ride was mostly her talking about what she's seen in the world driving her rig throughout the country. He only half listened to her, until she got into the part where in her youth, she was troubled and lived on the streets. Turning his attention to her, she smiled when she knew she had gotten his attention.

"It wasn't easy hun, I was a rebellious free spirit and I didn't want anyone telling me what to do. I thought I knew what was best for me. So I had no home, no money, no family but I thought I could take on the world. Thing is, you can't take the world on alone. When I became hungry, or cold…I did things I ain't proud of. Then I found the Lord, and he gave me hope."

The notion of God helping her when he abandoned them made him pity her. Still, she went on. "I know that lot of people don't believe in God, but I do. So he didn't come down and gave me money or food, but he gave me hope. That hope motivated me to get my act together, and here I am."

"How can you be sure it was he that was giving you hope?" he asked. Hope was one thing he had very little of.

"Oh, he didn't give me hope. I already had it, I just needed to find it. You see, that's what so many preacher men get wrong. I believe God wants us to find our own way, his love though is constant, even if we don't see it all of the time. God is love hun." Smiling still, she quickly glanced over at him " I see you're a man in pain, lost. Have faith sweetie, you will find a way."

Her optimism was…soothing, and uplifting to his flagging spirit. She may be completely wrong and possibly delusional, but the serenity and peace she harbored was enticing. Maybe one day he could find such peace. Nodding to her advice, he returned to looking outside the window. Yes, this journey was one he needed to make, to find himself. Truly find himself, to find his place in world now that he was a part of it.

She pressed a twenty dollar bill into his hand when she let him out. He didn't understand how this woman could be so kind and generous with a complete stranger. All she told him was to be safe and soon he would find his way. Once she drove away, he looked around his surroundings. He was relatively near the city center in an industrial district. Spying a convince store, he immediately went in and bought some personal hygiene products and a muffin. Rose had told him that he should try to find a way to find a shelter for himself, like a tent. Using the knowledge from both her and David, he began the process of building his own life.

Walking down the street that had some distinct Asian design aesthetics, he dropped some loose change he had into an older woman's cup. The idea of panhandling had crossed his mind, though he had no idea on how to do it. Seemed simple enough, as most simple held out their cups and signs hoping for some change. If it was effective he had no idea, though he doubted it. Preferably, he would like to work, but what work he can do he had no idea either. Lacking proper identification, he knew it was unlikely he could be gainfully employed legally. It was in moments like this he wished Dean had taught him how to 'hustle', as that was a source of the Winchesters income other than fraud.

Life in the streets of the big city was proving to be difficult. Other transients were sometimes helpful, or rude…or in some cases, difficult to understand. However, the helpful ones did impart him with some good tidbits of knowledge. Food he was not having to terrible of a time dealing with. There were other persons who also did as he did and went dumpster diving. Sometimes he went to a kitchen or food bank. The feeling of being hungry though was ever present but he was learning to cope with it. He saw on some faces the despair and look of defeat written on his faces and he felt sympathetic.

However, when he tried to find something new, like a new food, which was often in his case, he couldn't help but be amazed. Though using the toilet still made him uncomfortable. The first time he needed to empty his bladder, he didn't know what to do. It happened not long after he meet David, he sensed the need to urinate as a burning need. At first, he thought it was something he ate, and he slightly panicked at the thought. If it wasn't a passing dog a person was walking that marked its territory did he connect the dots. He consumed food and drink now, and after his body was done extracting what it could, he would need to expel the waste product.

Walking to the nearest public restroom, he locked the stall and thought about what he needed to do. Obviously, he would need to remove his pants, though he remembered he was male. If all he needed to do was urinate, then he could just take his penis out and aim it to the bowl. But he didn't know if needed to defecate as well. Perhaps he should sit, his body should know what to do, even if he didn't. Sitting, he did indeed urinate and waited until the sensation to go was gone. Pulling his pants back up, he flushed the toilet, watching the water swirl.

By this point, he had quickly learned how use the restroom and the watching others behavior. Though he also learned that most men did not kindly take to being observed when they are using the restroom. Though he questioned the sanitary conditions in some places, he preferred to find a public restroom to relieve himself instead using the street as some others do. He also knew in the back of his mind, he needed to bath as well. There was already a slight beard, or as Dean would call it, peach fuzz. Why he grew a beard and Dean hadn't in Purgatory still escaped him. The memory of it though, when Dean hugged him and poked at his beard, now it elicited a different feeling in him.

Refocusing his thoughts, he tried to think of where he could bath. His clothes also needed a washing as well, though going naked into a Laundromat again would be unadvisable with people in them. Not only did he need some means of personal shelter, he also needed some way to get money, find new clothes, travel with said clothes and keep himself feed and clean. Being human required a lot of work. As an angel, he did not need to worry about what he first thought were shortcomings in humans. Though he did enjoy watching them sleep, well, Dean sleep. Since Zachariah pushed him into an alternate future, he kept an eye on Dean when he slept, even though Dean found it annoying.

Still, he had to find a way to support himself, albeit lowly as it may likely be. Finding places to sleep where he would not be disturbed by the law or other persons was difficult in a city. He had heard that there was a 'tent city' somewhere but being that he had to tent, he didn't think it would be wise to go there. Basically, it boiled down to him finding the very bare necessities to live. That was taking a considerable amount of time, time away from figuring out to solve the problem of getting the angels back.

However, he didn't know if he wanted to. No doubt that the Winchesters would be pursuing the same course, and they would eventually meet, something he wanted to avoid. Not to mention he had no resources to even begin, where they had the entire Men of Letters archive and the prophet. Perhaps he shouldn't even bother and just try to make a life for himself. Doing that though would be playing into Metatrons plan for him, so once again, he was at a loss on what to do.


	5. Chapter 5

He was walking in the late evening not far from a large park when he felt someone was following him. Sensing danger, he tried to keep at first in well lighted areas to see who was trailing him. A quick glance it was only a couple of young men, but they looked on edge. It was a look he had seen on other people in the city, one that marked them as drug users. There weren't many he encountered, but others told him what to look out for. If they were following him, it was likely their intent was to rob him. That was futile because he had nothing of worth to steal. He had already used up the last of the money that he had been given in exchange for a blanket and food. All he had was just that blanket, his bag with some fruit he salvaged and hygiene products.

Ducking into a dark alleyway, he quickly stowed the bag and blanket in a safe spot while he waited in the middle of the alleyway for them to come. Yes, he maybe human and a starving one at that, but he could fight still. It only took them a minute to come swaggering down the alley.

"I will let you know now that I have no money or anything of worth to take. All I ask is for you to leave me alone." he stated, hoping that diplomacy would work first.

The shorter man snickered, "that's what they all say. Just hand us your wallet and we'll be good." His voice was raspy, and in the dim light, he saw what little teeth he had was dark and broken.

"I do not even possess a wallet to give." he replied as he took a small step forward with his hands raised.

Apparently that was not what they wanted to hear, as they dispensed with all talking and rushed him. He ducked on punch while he also pushed the taller of the two behind him, causing the name to tumble into a fall. The shorter one was quick though and threw another punch that he was a bit too slow to fully evade. Stumbling back to regain his balance, the shorter one threw another punch which he ducked while he threw his own. His connected to the chest and the man let out a cry of pain. The taller one was back up now and was now charging him.

He turned to face his attention to the new attack when the shorter one also charged him. Backed into a corner, he braced himself as best he could. Deflecting one blow, another one came from the side right onto his face. His own punch in retaliation landed on someone's face but he didn't see who. Then he felt his gut punched and another blow landed on his head, dropping him to his knees. One of them kicked him and he fell further to the ground. He tried to curl up to protect his head and vitals, but they kicked him for several moments.

Satisfied that he wouldn't resist them, the felt them go through his pockets after dragging him up. The haze surrounding his brain from his beating did not let him really see or hear what was happening. He heard them say something, then he was dropped, kicked a couple more times and left there in the alley.

Slowly getting up, he first checked to see if anything felt broken. Ache and pain screamed all over his body, but nothing felt broken. There was blood in his mouth and he was a bit winded, the pounding his head took was bad but not severe. Stumbling back to where he stowed his stuff, he began walking down the alley, hoping to find a place to rest.

The next day when passing a window, he saw that he was sporting a black eye. When he had a moment to undress, he saw that he was covered in an ugly assortment of bruises. Sighing, he put his clothes back on and ventured back outside. He had taken up to wandering around the city, sometimes looking for food, or other items he could use, sometimes for a job. There were various places he found out where he could find employment, but most of them needed some form of identification. One night he was walking by some people waiting by the curb. One of them chased him away claiming that that was their stretch. Later he learned they were prostitutes, which made him recall that night he spent with Dean in that den of iniquity.

As an angel, the concept of sex was foreign, and expressly forbidden to boot. There was no need to procreate and since they were wavelengths of celestial intent, pleasure in fornication was thought obscene. However, there were always whispers of angels who fell to experience things as a human, like Anna. Or others yet who made the Nephilim. That night though, he went to humor Dean in honesty. He had no idea why he should engage in sex, it was a human coping mechanism, not an angels. There was no embarrassment on his part, he thought he was being helpful to the women trying to seduce him. What he remembered most was how Dean laughed. Truly laughed. The memory of it made him smile.

Spending time walking alone in circles left him plenty of time to think. Wrangling with all the guilt his actions had done to the world, his family, friends…to Dean. Dean kept on intruding into his thoughts ranging from missing him dearly to fearing him. They never seem to part on good terms, ever. Usually it was because he did something horrible or exploded. He also thought of Dean often because he was his gateway to understanding humanity, as it was Dean himself that opened his eyes. It was Dean who gave him the courage to do what he felt was right, to make a _choice_. Granted, what he had done with the gift of free will was horrendous, but would he give it up? Never.

If there was anything Dean had taught him, is that you make a choice, and sometimes it was just plain wrong. It may have been made with the best of intentions, but as the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. But Dean had forgiven him for his mistakes. Well, most of them. He wasn't sure about the last time, when he ran off with the angel tablet and then to Heaven. If Dean wouldn't forgive him this time, he understood. Not that it would matter, he was going to avoid the Winchesters as much as he could. Never mind that sad ache he felt when he thought that. Sam and Dean were his friends, but it was better for all parties involved if they never saw each other again.

On a sunny day, he had a chance encounter in one the neighborhoods. A person in a truck stopped by him on a road and asked if he needed some work. It was an elderly man, but he looked hale and kind. The truck was loaded up with some furniture and the man explained that his grandsons bailed on him on helping him get rid of the junk. He needed a person to help him unload this stuff at the dump. Trusting his gut instinct, he accepted. It was hard work, as there was more at the man's home and it took several trips. Afterwards, the man graciously offered him the shower and washing machine. He even gave him some food and a beer. The man, named Bill, explained his action in the simple belief that people are inclined to work with each other than against. After giving him forty bucks, he also gave him a mostly unused tent when Cas told him about his living situation.

The kindness is some persons amazed him, while the cruelty in others made him pause. He had watched humanity since its beginning, but he had never been among them as he is now. It was…humbling. In some ways, he could see why God favored humanity. They could be as arrogant as angels, horrible like monsters, devouring as leviathans…yet, they can be loving, kind, loyal as well. They embodied the very nature of free will, with the choice to follow their instincts and base desires or rise above them, to do something amazing.

Originally, he rebelled because it was his desire to do God's true will. Protect creation, protect humanity. Originally, he viewed that through the Winchesters and their allies. Now though, this was the greater part of the human race, living blissfully aware of what happens in the night. Flawed, but with great potential, that was what he was beginning to see.

The following day, he found the tent city under a bridge. He asked around on where he could set up and what was allowed and what wasn't. It was an illegal tent city he found out, but the locals tolerated them as long as some of the nearby churches regulated them. It was relatively safe place he can stay a while, for no drugs or alcohol were allowed there. In fact, most the people there were employed in some limited form, just lacking the money for more permanent dwellings. The first night there, he slept for a long time.

Some of the other residents there were in the same situation he was, lacking identification. However, like Bill had done, some places were willing to pay him under the table in exchange for manual labor. It was unsteady work, and physically demanding ranging from clearing bush, to construction to gardening. However, he slowly accumulated better gear and materials. As the autumn came in, the weather cooled, but he was prepared for it. Work would become scarce in winter, and it would become cold here. Some residents were already heading west or south to more temperate places.

He was going to stay. For the past couple of months he stayed under the radar from everyone. He had gone to the library a couple of times to look for news on what was happening. It was easy enough for him to find demon signs, but other supernatural news wasn't something he could find easily. From time to time, he still entertained the thought of maybe going out on a hunt, but always decided against is. Fact was, he was useless and had no resources to do so. He had no transport or weapons to fight with besides his own two hands. He was working or looking for work or food to actually care about the supernatural world. He could hear Dean berate him for thinking such thoughts though.

Then there was still the handling of his emotions. Some women, and on occasion men, came to proposition him into engaging in sex. As he understood, he was in a physically attractive body. One person even offered for him to be his pimp one late evening. Physical intercourse was to him a theoretical concept, he knew how to technically do it, he just hadn't done it yet. One thing he was grateful for was his angelic memory, which remained intact. However, he never really noticed anyone of interest to copulate with. His suitors, and hopeful pimp, were all disappointed at his declining.

Though there was one person he did have an interest with at first. It was a man who worked in a grocery store with dirty blond hair, green eyes and bowlegs. At first, he didn't realize that he was attracted to that man. He supposed that would make him homosexual, but sexual orientation was something he still didn't grasp, he liked the man because he looked like Dean. That was when it clicked in his mind, he _looked _like Dean. But it wasn't Dean. Suddenly, his infatuation with man dried up and was replaced with this newfound feeling towards Dean.

Which was then quickly replaced with despair. Dean was an avowed ladies' man, the epitome of masculine heterosexuality. He would have taken Cas's infatuation as an insult and with immense disapproval. That wasn't including the already horrible position he was with Dean at the moment anyway, i.e. not talking. Knowing that such feelings would go unrequited, he fell into a depression. A deeper depression actually. Thus his libido fell and non-existent love life continued.

That did not stop him though from thinking about it, especially in his dreams, which were usually bad, from sometimes becoming pleasant. In these happy fantasies, he was with Dean and Sam, at the bunker, or Rufus's cabin, or on a hunt. Some were memories, sometimes they were new constructs from his subconscious. There were even ones where it was sometimes it was just him and Dean. After those ones though, he would wake up sad and more depressed, casting an unhappy shadow on the day. His life without the Winchesters was just about staying alive, but deep down, he knew he was not living. His life was incomplete.


	6. Chapter 6

The past couple of months have been the usual lets hunt/run for you lives/fix this his life usually has been. Abaddon was making it hard for them by coming after them and also gathering a flock of both demons and angels. They were nowhere closer on reopening Heaven either. In between their missions, they had a couple of hunts. Some progress was getting made though, if slowly and sheer luck.

All through it though, he thought of how Cas was doing. He wouldn't talk about him, not even to Sam. His little brother tried to pry more information from him, even tried to talk to him about his feelings. But he's a grown man for god's sake, he doesn't need to talk about his emotions like a teenage girl. So what if he felt deep wound by the fact that Cas left him again. It's not like this is the first time that feathery asshat had done that. In fact, he had lost count how often Cas did that to him. Always a reason though, it was to protect him, or let him live his life, and or suffer in penance. Each one of those times, or the times he died for him, it stung.

Why it hurt, he really didn't care to think about. But when he was alone in his room in the bunker, or driving, or just about anywhere really, Cas would creep into his thoughts. Damn bastard still wouldn't let him any peace, dead, alive or missing. So what if he missed the gravelly 'hello Dean' and the weird nerdiness that was Cas. Over the years, he had come to think of Cas as family, his best friend actually, other than Sam of course. Never religious, not with all the crap he's seen, but he prayed to Cas. Not just to call him, but, well, he prayed to him because it allowed him to talk things out. He could be honest with Cas because he had seen him at his absolute worst.

Yes, Cas did not extend him the same courtesy, especially that time he worked with Crowley in secret. That betrayal of his trust then, that hurt. He very nearly cried, but he used his anger a cloak that day, eventually ignoring all the stuff Cas did. That evaporated the day they all thought Cas died in the reservoir. Stupid son of a bitch once again did something stupid, i.e. save them, and died again. When his coat floated up, he kept it because he really thought that was the end of him. Why he wanted to keep the coat, bringing it with him from car to car, it escaped him. Sam asked him why he did it, and he had no idea why either. Maybe because it was the only memento, the only physical evidence that Cas was even in their lives.

Then he came back again, amnesiac then crazy, but he was alive. Was he happy? He was happy as he could be, but he was angry as well. So the angel tried to take responsibility for his actions, and tried to fix it, taking Sam's crazy, helping them kill Dick. But the angel up and left him in Purgatory, and for a whole year, he fought to find Cas in that dreary world. First thing he wanted to do was punch him in the face. But what did he do? He hugged him because he was happy to see his friend again. Then to find out he ran to protect Dean, yet again, gave him a weird twisted feeling to his gut.

At the last minute though, Cas left him alone at the portal. Why in his mind did he conceive that he had failed Cas when Cas choose to stay was beyond him. He was used to living with this type of guilt, so he assumed that he had left him down. The truth was, he couldn't believe that Cas let him go, so the feeling of guilt was preferable to him that feeling rejected. Then he came back, then disappeared, then came back again. He knew something was wrong when they rescued Samandriel. And what happened in the crypt, he can't explain. Yeah, he could've fought harder, but why did he give up faster than he has ever done and pleaded with him. And why in the hell did he almost say he loved him before he changed it to I need you.

So yet again, he was pissed at the angel, for again flying off. But more because Cas made him almost say I love you to him. And it wasn't the love between friends, or brothers, oh no, this was the whole different level of love. So be buried that gay shit as deep as it can be hidden. Then of course all the world fell apart and Cas once again left him to 'protect' him. So the bastard wanted to be left alone, then so be it. He can deal with the hurt and heartache, the constant worry if he was ok, or alive. It's not like this was a kind of guilt he hasn't carried before. No, he'll deal with it.

* * *

The late autumn was beginning to being on much colder nights now. Even with all the layers he bundled under, and the think blankets he had, the cold still cut through him. Snow had been falling the past couple of days as well, only adding to his misery. He was still in the now much smaller tent city, which had now moved to a different location on private land. Here they were allowed to build fires in metal barrels, and most days he stuck around them for the heat. He had a tidy stockpile of food, so he didn't venture into the city often to find food. One of the nearby churches also offered hot food every Wednesday and Saturday, which was great. Also being in the library was a way for him to stay out of the cold. He had gotten a library card and had taken up reading a great deal.

It was on one such day when he was reading that he saw a tall man come up to the archives section. Taking care not to be seen, he moved in closer to double check. Sure enough, it was Sam with his laptop asking the librarian for access to the archives. At first he wanted to come out and say hi to his old friend, but at the same time, he still didn't want to be found. If Sam saw him, he would relay that to Dean, and Dean was the last person he wanted to see. However, there was no way for him to sneak away. The section he was in was a large open area with tables. Sam was already settling into a chair almost facing him with his research materials.

Waiting until it looked like Sam was engrossed in his work, he quietly moved away from the shelves he was behind and tried to sneak away. However, at the same time, another librarian nearly bumped into him.

"Oh, sorry Jimmy! I didn't see you there." Rachel said before moving on. She whispered it but the disturbance was enough to draw Sam's attention for a split second, long enough to lock eyes. Immediately he rushed out of the library.

"Cas!" Sam shouted behind him in the alley he was trying to make an escape in. Knowing there was no point in outrunning Sam and his long legs, he stopped. It was only a couple of seconds before the younger Winchester caught up to him.

Turning around, he looked at Sam and simply stated, "hello Sam." What he did not expect was the huge hug that Sam squeezed him in.

"Cas, man. It's good to see you." He put him down and gave him the look over. "So, uh, how you've been?"

He thought for a moment, "surviving. And you Sam?"

Sam crossed his arms, he had forgotten his jacket inside. "A lots been happening Cas. Hey listen, its freezing out here. Want to get something to eat?"

Thinking it over, "yes, that would be ok."

Sam smiled, "ok, let's get my stuff and we can go."

A few moments later they were at a café just a block down from the library. Sam explained on the walk over they were in town trying to figure out what has been killing people in the area. Ordering drinks for the both of them, they sat down in some comfy chairs facing each other.

"So Cas…what have you been doing the past several months? I can see you're human, but do you have any of your powers left? The other angels do, besides flying." Sam asked in a concerned and measured tone meant to assure him.

Looking into the cup, he didn't being his eyes up to meet Sam's. "Metatron took my grace by force, it was the final component in the spell he used to cast the angels down. And no, I am fully human." He sighed, "I've been living in a small community in a tent not far from here. It has been a difficult time, especially these past couple of weeks with the colder weather, and work…"

Sam cut him off, "you've been living on the streets!?" The disbelief in his voice made him drop he head lower. He had never felt shame in being homeless, but for some reason, he did now. "How come you didn't call us Cas? We could've helped you…I mean, you're family Cas. Do you know how worried I've been…how Dean has been?"

There was a brief silence, "how is he?" he asked meekly.

"Dean's been…different. He's been moody, colder, he doesn't smile often. It's like he's shouldering another level of guilt and he won't talk about it. He hasn't been the same since you called Cas. That, that really tore him up."

That knowledge made him wince. "I did it to protect you both. Angels are looking for me. One already tried to kill me. I am not willing to endanger wither one of you." he replied.

"Well it didn't work, we were attacked literally as soon as you hung up on him. If it wasn't for Ezekiel, we both would've been dead by now." Sam sighed, "Cas I know you well enough that I know you did it to protect us. You always do, but we're not weak man, we can handle ourselves."

He knew that was flimsy excuse and that it would buckle under scrutiny. Admitting the real reason why he had chosen to stay would was difficult to put into words. Yes, he was afraid of Dean spurning him, being angry at him and the distinct possibility of outright rejection. Those fears weighed heavily against his hope of being back with the Winchesters, having a home and maybe, maybe letting him become closer to Dean. Staying away meant he didn't have to confront those issues, they can by just exercises in thought alone.

"Sam…I've been a danger to you both, hurt you both. I bring trouble and cause more problems for you two. It's maybe better…no, it is better I remain apart." He looked at Sam who gave him a sad look. "Don't think this doesn't hurt me too. Now that I am human, I feel things differently. All this time, I've been figuring out who I am. And what I am is an agent of chaos, I cannot _fix_ anything, I can only break it."

"Cas, you've done a lot of good out there. And human or not, we still need you." He paused, "Dean needs you." he added quietly.

Tilting his head, "Dean doesn't need me Sam. He has made that very clear in the past."

"Bullshit Cas. He still prayed to you in Purgatory, thought he was hallucinating before you came back. Even when you went AWOL, he kept on praying. He brought that coat with him everywhere when you went missing the first time. And how do I know, because he won't talk about it…that's how I know he really really cares about someone." Sam opened his arms, "if he saw you right now, knew you were homeless and skinny as hell, it would break his heart Cas. I know my brother. Beneath all that macho ladies' man, he has a heart, and he cares for you Cas, we all do."

He closed his eyes, "I don't want to cause that Sam. Please…don't tell him you saw me. Don't tell him anything."

"Like hell Cas, you're coming with us. No ands, ifs or buts. Your family, and we don't leave family in the cold." Sam waved his hand toward the window. "C'mon Cas, its only late fall, this isn't even winter and its already cold as hell. You're not going to survive this."

A bit of anger rose up in him, "I survived well enough for the past several months by myself. I can and will disappear if I have to Sam, I don't want to go back. Back to all the fighting, all the bloodshed…I don't want it. I'm nothing but bad luck and useless without my powers."

Sam let out a huff. "Fine, you don't want to go back to hunting. I get that. But please, come back with us, to the bunker at least. You can stay there, read and research all you want. You can be safe there."

He shook his head, "it sounds tempting, but the emotional turmoil is still too great for me. I…I can't." It was indeed a tempting offer, but that would bring him to being in close proximity to Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes, "god! This is so frustrating! Both of you are insufferable you know that? You guys act like you're married."

He blushed at the thought, and that didn't escape Sam's notice. "Wait…hold on, I know you guys have this 'profound bond' but…Cas, are you in love with Dean?" The way Sam asked was gentle and soft, as if to assure him it's ok. Looking to the right, away from Sam, he didn't say anything. It was all Sam needed though. Sam smiled a little from what he could see in his peripheral vision. "It's all right Cas, no big deal. So…yeah." There was a moment of silence. "Ok, I won't say anything, for now. But I am going to ask for something in return."

Bringing his attention back to Sam, he listened as Sam continued. "I won't say anything to Dean for now. But I want you to call him in a couple of weeks, and I'll get you a cell phone. You two need to open a dialogue again. And Cas?"

"Yes Sam?" he asked with a small tone of hope in his voice.

"If there is any problem, or if you need help, you call me ok. I'm gonna call you too, just to check up on you. Is that alright?"

"That…that sounds preferable Sam. Thank you."

Sam smiled, "good then, let's finish these and go get you a phone."

After they had finished their drinks, the headed to the store where Sam bought him a phone. He told him that he would pay for it, and to use it to call them. Before they went their separate ways, he gave them all the money he had, and hugged Cas. Sam told him that he'll worry about him, but he'll work on Dean. Reminding him to call in a week's time, they parted. When Sam was out of sight, he was almost considering throwing the phone away, but Sam was right. If things got truly untenable, then he would call. And he will call Dean, even though the fear and anticipation were already tearing him apart.


	7. Chapter 7

The day following his meeting with Sam, he received a text from him saying that they solved the ghost case and we're moving on a new case lead in Oregon. He text back that he was currently working on a movers gig that would supply him with more funds. The money that Sam gave him he bought another blanket and some warmer clothes from the Goodwill. It was getting colder and there was no way he could warm his small tent other than his own body. They messaged back and forth about maybe getting him a fake ID, saying someone named Charlie was a pro at it.

He appreciated it, but he would consider it after he had talked with Dean. Which he was dreading to do because Dean was unpredictable in such regards. It was highly probable that Dean would react negatively. Though, there was always a possibility, small as it was that Dean would be happy. All Sam suggested was for him to keep it short to just let him know he was ok. He had the feeling Sam was trying to play as a peacekeeper, or a matchmaker. His conversations with persons and reading some novels made him aware of the concept. If Sam was ok with him liking his brother, which he knew is some instances were a huge hurdle, then all the better. Even though the concept of sexuality escaped him mostly, he understood enough that it was a big part in some person's lives.

There was also the other aspect that Sam did present. He did not want to fight any longer, he was not used to the level of fighting the Winchesters do. Relying on his grace did not endear him to other weapons besides his sword. The skills needed to shoot firearms though can be taught, his fighting prowess improved though. He had lost some weight, but the manual labor kept him fairly fit. The allure of being safe in the bunker and delegated to doing research, that was something he can do. The only problem he would have would be with Dean. As he saw it, he can work on repairing their friendship first before venturing into anything more. One thing being in the streets had taught him, don't plan to far in advance and prepare as best you could.

A couple days before he was set to call Dean as agreed by him and Sam, he got a cold. He had a small cough the past couple of days but it was turning out to be something more. This was not as bad as the 'hay fever' he got earlier in the summer. That time he went to library and tried to diagnose himself, which was difficult, even with his knowledge of the human body extensive as it is. Not panicking, he simple got some cheap allergy medicine and that made him feel better, if not sleepy. This time he got some cough drops, hoping to sooth the now worsening cough.

As the night wore on, he felt more chilled than he usually does, and he was achy all over. The cough had not subsided, but had in fact gotten worse. It hurt to breath sometimes, especially after a bad coughing fit. When had those, sometimes he coughed up some phlegm that looked greenish. The following day, he just stayed under all his blankets. There were bouts when he had nausea, especially when he needed to use the restroom. That was a labor in itself, getting up to walk all the way to bathroom. A neighbor stopped him and asked if he was feeling all right, and he just nodded saying it was just a cold. Settling under all the blankets shivering, he fell into a restless sleep.

He woke up after a longer stretch of sleeping when Sam messaged him. It was now noon and he inquired when he would call Dean so he corral Dean into accepting his call. Weakly, he messaged back that he would so in about half hour, which was ok with the younger Winchester.

* * *

They were in Montana after evading another gang of demons and finishing up a small nest of vampires. Sam suggested that they take a breather in the motel and just relax. Since this motel had magic fingers in his bed, he was more than happy to accept. What surprised him was that Sam gave him a small bags worth of quarters to entertain him. Not that he was going to question why Sam was suddenly so nice, it was like he was planning something. However, he let the motors in the bed vibrate his worries away.

He barely registered that his phone was ringing. Well, one of the phones. That one was his other other cell phone, the one he used for his primary personal communication. Since very few had that number, he figured it was either Garth, Kevin or Charlie. Eyes closed he answered the phone.

"Hello Dean." Cas said in a raspy weak voice.

"Cas!" he bolted upright. He looked over at Sam, who gave him a snickered grin. Bastard knew it was Cas already! He'll deal with that later. "Where are you man? Are you ok?"

"I think I might be somewhat ill." Cas went into a coughing fit that went on for a bit.

"Ya think! It sounds you're coughing up a lung man!" Sam's smirk disappeared and became a frown. "Where are you?"

"You sound so concerned. I don't want you to be concerned. I'm fine. My grace will heal me soon." This was worrying him. Cas sounded weak, raspy like he couldn't breathe and now it sounded like he was delirious.

"Cas…you said you were human. You don't have your grace. Now where are you?" he asked tensely. Motioning to Sam to start packing it up, they were going to head out as soon as Cas said where he was.

"I don't…don't feel my wings anymore Dean. And I'm cold." Cas stopped for another cough and he could hear how ragged his breath sounded. This was not good at all. "Wanted to hear your voice again. I miss hearing your prayers. And I am sorry I didn't always come. Wish I could fly again."

He stopped in his tracks. "Cas, listen to me, you're not doing great. You need help, now where are you?"

However, Cas didn't seem to be hearing him as he kept on talking. "I learned how to paint houses. It's hard being human. Instant coffee is rather an unpleasant drink, tea is preferable." He let him babble on, it was clear Cas was losing it, likely to a fever. Goddammit, where is he!

Covering the mouthpiece, he looked over at Sam and growled, "you know where he is don't you?" Sam nodded. "He's sick, real sick Sam, now tell me where he is."

"Denver, he's in Denver." He nodded and got his keys and bag. They were leaving now.

Tuning back to the phone, "Cas, we're coming, you hold tight. Stay warm and safe." Apparently Cas wasn't hearing anything because he was going on about the bee's like when he was crazy. "Cas listen to me." That caught the ex-angels attention.

"I never seem to listen to you Dean. I'm sorry about that." now the bastard sounded sad.

"Hey now, we all make mistakes. It's not like I know everything Cas." He was made that Cas gotten himself sick, but happy that at least he was talking to him now. "You're listening now aren't you?"

"Dean…it's cold and I feel sleepy again." Cas's speech was becoming slurred. "You make me feel warm Dean." That statement stopped him cold.

"What?" There was no reply, so he looked at the phone, the line was still open. "Cas! Answer me you son of a bitch!" He heard some coughing then a groan. "Dammit Cas! Stay awake!" He and Sam raced down to the Impala where he pulled out fast and gunned the engine. Denver was about a seven hour drive from where they were now. He was going to cut it down as fast as he could. "I swear Cas, if you pass out I will kick your ass."

"Dean…" Cas sounded distant, like he was away from the phone. An icy grip seized his heart. He was not going to let this happen, he was not about to lose his friend again. "Dammit Cas! Keep on talking, what have you been doing? Where have you been? Promise I'm not mad, I mean…it's good to hear from ya." Motivating Cas to keep on talking was the only assurance the Cas was still alive.

There was another coughing fit, and another groan. "Dean, so…tired. Need to sleep. Maybe dream…"

"What do you dream about man?" this was just to keep him talking. Not that he was curious, but he was trying to keep his friend alive.

"Us…I dream of us Dean…" he took a deep wheezy breath that obviously hurt him. "Mis…ov…ou." was all he head next before silence.

"Cas! CAS! Dammit!" he gave the phone to Sam so he can concentrate on weaving through the traffic. Sam continued trying to coax Cas into talking. If he didn't know better, he could almost swear Cas said 'love you' before he went quiet. He didn't know what to make of that, maybe he head wrong. Cas was delirious, he had no idea what he was talking about. Shit, there was a hellstorm of emotions going on in him right now. He was pissed, happy, worried, angry, anxious and most importantly, afraid.

"It's no good Dean, he must've passed out." Sam said after a while. He was still holding he phone, but saw the line was still connected.

"How the hell did you know he was going to call Sam." he needed to think about something else, something other than Cas sick and maybe dying.

Sam looked down, "I ran into him at a local library a couple weeks ago when we were on that salt and burn down there."

"And you forget to tell me!" Dean yelled.

"He begged me not to Dean!" Sam replied softly. "He didn't want you to worry about him or look for him still. I worked out a deal with him to have him call you at the least."

"Why?! What he was he afraid of?"

"Cause he's scared of you Dean! He was still working out on his own supposed guilt and didn't need the crap you would heap on him." Sam shouted back. Taking a deep breath, "he wanted to make his own way. Part of it was to protect us, but he wanted to experience a new life away from us. And I understand that."

So Cas was afraid of him? That hurt him more than it should have. "Well, look where it landed him."

"Hey! I tried to get him to come back, offered him to stay in the bunker and everything. But he didn't want to. He threatened to disappear again if I forced him or told you. So I made a deal with him. Try to win him back a little. I don't want him in a tent in winter any more than anyone else."

"He's fucking living on the streets!" Dean roared. "And you didn't drag him back! Dammit Sam, if he dies…"

"He's not going to die Dean." Sam said calmly, though he said it mostly for himself and not for Dean.

"Hope to God you're right Sam." He stepped on the gas a bit more and sped south.

In six hours they were near the library that Sam ran into Cas. It was late evening now, and they split up trying to find him. After a while, one person told them about a tent city a couple miles outside the city. Calling Sam, they drove to the place. It was on a large piece of property that belonged to a church. No one impeded them from entering the small cluster of tents. Calling out for Cas, and his alias of Jimmy, a neighbor of Cas's pointed to his tent.

He unzipped that tent fast so he can get inside. It was surprisingly clean, though it did smell of stale human sweat. In the middle was a large bundle of blankets on top what he hoped was Cas. Peeling back the layers, he got a good look at Cas. His face was pale and had a beard, he looked thinner too. But he was breathing, though he was hot to the touch. "Dammit Cas." He grabbed under Cas and lifted him up and began heading back to the car. He was too light.

"Sam! Get his things and pack it up, we're taking him to the hospital." The movement woke Cas up a little bit.

"Dean…" was all he managed, he didn't even open his eyes. Though he did try to sink deeper into his embrace. Dean just held him closer, trying to keep him warm.

"Shhh…I'm here. We're taking you to the hospital man, you're gonna be ok." Cas didn't even respond, he kinda went limp. "Dammit Cas, stay with me. Don't you dare die on me you son of a bitch!" He was sprinting to the car now. "Hurry it up Sam!"

Sam ran past him with his longer legs carrying only a couple bags and blankets from Cas's tent. He threw those into the passenger side and opened the back door for him and Cas. Once they were in Sam started the car and began to drive to the nearest hospital.

"Stay with me Cas…please. Don't leave me again…not again." he pleaded quietly to Cas. "Fight it Cas, stay here, stay with me…I…I can't deal with you gone ok? So you better pull through this or I swear, I will kick your ass."

Cas made no reply.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you everyone for the very kind reviews! This is my second fic that I wrote after my 'Of Secrets and Truth' series. Good news, I am done with this one as well and it is a full 13 chapters. I will update every other day more or less.

* * *

The ride was short to the hospital, but all the way there he was worried that Cas would not wake up. He was burning up and still breathing, signs he was alive but this looked bad. God knows what he might have caught out there on the streets. How could Sam let him stay out there freezing in the streets? And how the hell did Cas think he could survive out there in the streets? Well, somehow he had for the past several months while he's been dodging knights of hell and avenging angels.

Cas's eyes fluttered open for a brief second, and he whispered "Dean…"

"I'm here buddy, I'm here." Cas lifted his arm and patted his face. It felt weird to feel rough hands on his face from a dude, but Cas was warm…and delirious. He didn't know if Cas understood what he was saying or doing. Cas smiled and snuggled closer to him before closing his eyes again. The panic he felt earlier was beginning to lift.

They got to the hospital a couple minutes afterward and Sam opened the door for them. He carried him to the ER where the nurses quickly gave them a stretcher to lay Cas on. Waiting in the hallway while a room opened up for them, he stayed by Cas's side even though he was out for most of it. When they got a room, they wheeled him in and began their exam to determine what was wrong.

After a couple of hours the doctors told him what it was, since Sam was hiding in the waiting room. They were certain it was a bad bout with pneumonia, probably bacterial. The cold and his diet contributed to his weakened immune system, making him susceptible to infection. The x-rays showed that his lungs were somewhat clogged. His fever was pretty high when they read it, it was 103.6 degrees, contributing to his delirium, but it was going down. They already had him on antibiotics and said they were keeping him overnight for observation. Otherwise, it wasn't fatal , though it might have become that had he stayed out in the cold any longer. He asked when he can take him home and they replied that if he checked out, in a day or two.

Not wanting to leave Cas alone in case he woke up, he asked one of the orderlies to bring in the giant skulking in the waiting room. Sam came in a little bit afterwards.

"How is he?" Sam asked meekly looking at Cas sleeping in the bed.

"Pneumonia, high fever, they got him on meds. He's out for now, I think they gave him a sedative. He'll be ok though." He looked up at Sam who meet his gaze. "Why the hell didn't you tell me he was living on the streets Sam?"

"He didn't want me too Dean, like I told you earlier."

He looked back at Cas, "Why Sam? I wouldn't turn him away."

"You certain about that Dean? You haven't talked about or mentioned Cas in months. Every time I, or Kevin or anyone else brings him up, you ignore it or leave the room. Why is that Dean?" Sam asked folding his arms.

He looked back at his brother. Great, Sam had let's talk about our feelings face. Though he had a point, he didn't talk about Cas at all, because it would remind him of how Cas left him. He didn't needed to be reminded of that hurt, that guilt. He sighed, "I don't want to talk about it. All that matters is that he's here, we're here and he's coming up with us."

"You never want to talk about Dean! You bury it, carry all that crap around and that's not healthy! You gotta let it out."

"And say what Sam? That he left me again? That it hurt like a knife in the gut and that I've been worried sick about him since? Is that what you want to hear? Well there you go! Happy now?" Dean almost shouted back. He didn't want to wake Cas up or get kicked out by the nurses.

"Yes! But that's what he needs to hear Dean. From you." Sam uncrossed his arms. "I'm going to wash his stuff so he has clean clothes when he gets out. And I already called Kevin to fix up a room for him. So just…stay here. Talk to him." With that, Sam left him alone in the room with Cas.

Sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside the bed, and looked at the sleeping ex-angel. Cas was thinner, his cheekbones were more prominent now and he had dark circles under his eyes. The beard was thicker than the one he had in Purgatory, and he didn't like it on him then, he doesn't like it now. Looks too much of how Cas looked like in that dark future Zachariah sent him to. First thing when Cas come around and gets better, he's going to teach him how to shave.

He had to admit, he was kinda proud how Cas handled the past several months by himself. Even he doesn't know if he could do it. Yeah, he didn't have a home either most of his life, but he had the Impala, and Bobby's. Cas didn't, he survived and was smart enough to hide from the everyone. Still, that didn't mean he should have run away from them, from him. Didn't he already tell Cas that he would take him, broken or not? Stupid angel in a trench coat.

* * *

Cas felt he was on a soft surface, and warm but there wasn't the oppressing feeling of being buried under the blankets he was sued to. There were also beeps coming from around him and he felt something in his nose. The ache was still there, but he could breathe easier now. All he remembered was talking to Dean, though he somewhat remembers Dean carrying him. Opening his eyes, he saw a white plain ceiling with a florescent light. To right was some machines and an IV line was stuck into his arm. Gathering he was in a hospital, he looked over to the left. Dean was sitting in a chair, looking at him with a small smile but tired eyes.

"Hey Cas." Dean said tiredly. "How are you feeling?"

There was still a heaviness in his chest and his sore throat, but now there was a curious feeling in his stomach. "I've been better." he smiled weakly, happy to see Dean.

Dean arched his eyebrow, "was that supposed to be funny? Cause it ain't funny Cas. You almost froze to death out there."

He frowned, "I wasn't making light of the situation Dean." Looking around, "I assume you brought me here."

"Yeah, you passed out on the phone on me Cas, so I twisted Sam's arm to get him to spill." Dean leaned in closer, scooting the chair with him. "Why Cas?"

"Why what Dean?" he replied, unsure what Dean was getting at.

"Why did you run away? Was it because of me?" Dean asked softly, looking down.

He tilted his head slightly, "I needed time to myself Dean. Being human…is difficult, and I…I didn't to be a burden on you. Or endanger you." Reaching over, he lifted Dean's chin up so he can look in his eyes. "I wanted to reach out, I truly did Dean. But…I thought it was better this way."

Dean took his hand and laid it next to him on the bed. "Cas…for an angel you can be really dumb. You're family, how many times do I and Sam have to hammer that into your damn head?"

"I didn't want to go back Dean…I could," he tried to suppress the cough but failed, and he coughed for a while. Dean got up and patted him on the back and handed him a tissue to cough into. After it had subsided, he felt tired and out of breathe, so he laid back fully on the bed. Dean remained standing beside him though. The nurse came in quickly, checked him out and adjusted his IV. She said she was adding in his sedative again before leaving.

After she left, Dean then ran his hand down his face, feeling his beard. His hand lingered there while Dean spoke, "when we get home, I'm gonna shave your beard." He looked up at him, Dean was giving him a small smile. "You're coming with us Cas, no argument. You need to rest and the bunker is the safest place there is." He patted his face, "just rest for now 'k?" He nodded, feeling sleepy again, but he leaned into Dean's hand.

* * *

Cas was closing his eyes, the last coughing fit he obviously tired him out and the drip was doing it's magic. Why did he stroke his beard though? Cause now his hand was being trapped between the pillow and Cas's scruffiness. It was…weird, but it wasn't bad. He was hungry though and Sam hasn't been answering his phone to get him food. It looked like Cas just conked out again though, and he didn't want to wake him. He needed his rest after all.

Leaning over Cas, he slowly removed his hand but Cas seemed intent on keeping it there. Sighing, he looked around to check if the room was empty and the hallway clear. "Cas, I kinda need my hand man." All he got was a small whimper, he really was like a baby. Starting again, he began to gently retract his hand but when he nearly had it free, Cas fluttered his eyes open just a tiny bit. Even though he saw just a sliver of his blue eyes, he could tell they were sad.

What he did next surprised even him. He leaned down and kissed Cas on the forehead. It was a small peck, like a good night kiss his mom used to give him to go to sleep. Even before his lips left Cas's skin, he could just _feel_ Cas relax. Slowly, he raised himself up and saw that Cas was back asleep with a small smile. Why he did, he did not know why, but he was confusingly happy and weirded out. Shuffling out of the room, he hoped to God that this place had some pie and whiskey.


	9. Chapter 9

The pie was rather bland and the crust dry, so he just poked at it. He wished there was a bar somewhere nearby, but he didn't want to leave the hospital in case something happened to Cas. He would go if Sam were here to watch him, but he went off to clean all of Cas's stuff. He sighed, he was Dean freaking Winchester, and one thing he doesn't do is kiss dudes. Why the hell did he kiss Cas like he was a baby? And why did he stroke his beard? He hated facial hair, so scruffy and itchy. He's not gay dammit. Guys don't do it for him.

By all rights, he should be mad at Cas, for not listening to him, leaving him again, getting into trouble. Every time he tries to feel angry though, it just fizzles and becomes more of a feeling of contentment, sometimes happiness. It's like he can't stay mad at the angel, man now, for long. He's just helping out a friend, that's all. So what if he kissed him, it was on the forehead not on the lips. It's not like he was trying to French kiss him, he just wanted to reassure Cas everything was ok. That smile though, and the way Cas just _relaxed_ under him, it made him feel good too. God, he wished he had a shot of whiskey right now.

Now that he had a moment to think, what was really eating him though was what Cas might have said when he was in a delirium. Did he say 'I love you'? To him? Like there was anything worth to love in him. But this was Cas, a guy. Who is also his best friend. Who is a guy. Who might be in love with him. Shouldn't he be freaking out rather than oddly being ok with that? He loves the ladies, and they love him. That's a fact that isn't changing anytime soon. Yeah, he cares for Cas…but…well he and Cas have a _thing_. A freaking _profound bond_ for Pete's sake. So what the hell does that mean? Sighing, he went out of cafeteria to head back to the hotel to maybe catch some shut eye, something he can't do when he's around Cas.

* * *

All he remembered before drifting off to sleep was a little bit of pressure on his forehead from Dean. Realizing that Dean was kissing him, a small quick one yes, but it was a kiss from Dean. His tenseness and pain seemed to melt away and he fell asleep happy. Now he was awake and Dean wasn't there. That made him feel sad, but it did not surprise him. It was too much to hope that Dean would stay by his side while he was recovering.

He had no idea how long he was out this time, but he certainly felt much better than the first time he woke up. Breathing still hurt, but he felt more cognitive and rested. And warm, he hasn't felt this warm in ages. Looking down, he saw was in a gown that hospitals give patients. They must have changed him, and probably bathed him when he was out. Not that he was dirty, he did take a shower a couple of days ago.

To his right was his phone on the nightstand. Picking it up, he looked to see if there were any messages from Sam. There wasn't, but he checked the call log. The first time he called Dean he saw that it lasted for a couple hours, which was impossible. He could barely recall the first couple minutes when he called Dean. Dean must have kept the line open as long has he could, before the charge went out. He and Sam must have been trying to reach him even though he was out of it. Just then, Sam popped his head in to see if he was awake.

"Hey Cas, you feeling better?" Sam asked.

He nodded, "yes, thank you for bringing me here. Dean said I would have died if I had stayed where I was." Sam took the chair that was previously occupied by Dean. "Where is Dean?" he asked.

"Uh…he went to get some sleep since you were out. That was early this morning though, he should be back soon."

"Oh. How long have I been here?" The sleeping aids have skewered his sense of time which was usually impeccable.

"A day and a half, you came here the night before last. Dean was by your side most of the night the first night. You've been pretty out of it." Sam added with a small smile. "I washed all your stuff and the nurse said you can probably go home this afternoon." Sam leaned in closer, "and you coming home with us. We will drag you there Cas if we have to. And I already packed up everything for you."

"I think I can deal with it Sam, if you and Dean are ok with me being there."

"Dude, you never needed to ask." Sam smiled back leaning in the chair. "I already had Kevin set up a room for you. "

Dean walked in at that moment, and his and Dean's eyes locked. Dean look more tired, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot. "Sam, can you give me and Cas a minute here?" Dean asked wearily. He had a suddenly bad feeling crept up his spine like a chill. Sam nodded and gave Cas a look of encouragement and gave Dean a stern look before heading out and closing the door.

Walking to the end of the bed, Dean placed his hand on the edge and rested his entire weight on bed frame. He was looking down and was taking deep breathes. "Cas," Dean said in a low voice, "you gotta be honest with me." Dean looked up at him, "do you love me Cas?"

He was caught by surprise, this was something so uncharacteristic of Dean to talk about his emotions. Clearly it was bothering him a great deal to make him talk about it. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to respond since he was so flabbergasted.

Dean however went on, "cause I heard you, when you had your fever Cas. I'm pretty sure you said you love me. But you had a fever man, so you weren't thinking straight..er, I mean, clearly. We all say crazy things when you're sick."

It was obvious Dean was giving him the chance to back out what he think he said, which he didn't recall at all. He could both lie and say he was delirious to preserve his friendship with Dean. Or he could tell the truth that he loves Dean, he thinks, and more than likely end their friendship. That small kiss though from earlier though was giving him mixed signals. Was Dean trying to confirm he felt the same way? Was this a test?

His heart rate increased a bit as indicated by the heart monitor, causing Dean to look at the machine then him. Looking at Dean, he took a moment before he spoke. "I do Dean, but if that's a problem, I can go on my own again. I don't want to cause any unease for you, nor do I have the emotional fortitude to be around you if you are not ok with that."

* * *

Dean looked at Cas straight in the eye when he gave what felt was an ultimatum. He felt backed into a corner. He wasn't sure if he would ever be ok knowing Cas likes him like that. It's flattering yeah, but…what if Cas wants to make out? Or, get it on with him. Those ideas do make him slightly nauseous. On the other hand, if he shuts this down, then Cas was going to disappear again, probably for good again. It was blind luck Sam found him in the first place. He doesn't think he could handle that, not again.

So he was honest, "I don't know Cas. I don't swing that way, but I don't want you running off either." He walked over beside the bed and sat in the chair, leaning towards Cas. "Look, I'm cool with you being...uh, liking guys, but I don't know how I feel about you liking _me."_

Cas looked at him with a hard stare, like he was trying to hold back something before he replied. "Then why did you kiss me Dean?"

He looked down, he was hoping Cas didn't remember that. "I don't know. But look," he said looking back up, "that was just a small good night kiss ok? I meant nothing by it."

"Wrong Dean, people do that to small children to soothe them or to ones they love. You don't do that with Sam or anyone else." Cas replied, sinking his argument. The tone he used was flat though, and hard. It made him feel uncomfortable. And when he's uncomfortable, he gets mad.

"Well, want do want me to say Cas?! Do you want me to kiss you? Cause that ain't happening man. I'm not gay."

"Then I will go." Cas said in a low neutral voice, but when he looked at his eyes…his anger disappeared as quickly as it came. There were tears forming in his eyes but Cas kept on going, "I need to rest Dean before they discharge me."

Feeling like a jackass, he needed to fix this, "Cas, c'mon, I can't"

"What part I need to rest escaped you Dean?" Cas replied coldly, turning his back to him as best he could. Fine, if Cas wanted to pout, then he'll let him. Sam can talk him down hopefully. He, he needed to find a real drink, and fast. Getting up, he walked over to the door and let himself out

And directly into Sam who was standing right in front of him blocking his path. He had his arms crossed and had the classic 'you messed something up' face when he saw how he stomped out of the room. "Before you run off Dean, tell me what I'm going to find in there."

He quickly ducked around Sam, "you ask him," he huffed before he turned the corner. This hospital seemed like it was closing in on him, that everyone was looking at him. Accusing him of being an ass and douchebag, he can hear Sam's accusatory voice already. No, he needed out, and drink cause Cas, Cas was tearing him up inside.

* * *

Sam came in as soon as Dean left, but he pretended to be asleep hoping he would go away. He was already planning his escape from the Winchesters as soon as he was able to. It seems that Sam already gathered up his meager belongings, so he might have to start over. He had nothing to begin with, he can do it again.

"Oh jeez Cas, you can drop I'm asleep act." Sam said sternly. "What did you two fight about now?"

Oh well, he doubted he could fool Sam. Opening his eyes, he looked at the tall man who was towering over him even though he was at the foot of the bed. "I do not want to go to the bunker or co-habitat with Dean. It is preferable and…easier for both of us."

"So what, you're going to go back on the streets, scraping by to live, not even trying to find a way to help the angels?"

"It is evident they, or Dean, do not need my help Sam." he replied in a matter of fact tone.

Sam rolled his eyes, "ok, what did you and Dean talk about then?"

"He asked if I loved him." Sam's jaw dropped as if he was shocked at that revelation. Given the period of silence it took for him to respond, he guessed it had.

"Let me get this straight, Dean…my brother Dean who's so emotionally constipated and macho asked if you _loved _him?" Sam finally asked.

It was his turn to roll his eyes. There was a perverse pleasure when he did so, now he knew why humans did this often. "Yes. And I answered yes, as you already know. He did not appreciate the sentiment. I was confused by the kiss he gave…"

He got cut off, "wait, he _kissed_ you too? Like when?"

"Last night before I went to sleep, he kissed me so I would sleep easier. On the forehead saying it was a good night kiss." He sighed, "These human emotions are difficult for me to manage when _he's _around Sam. It would be easier for him and me not to see each other."

Sam came over and sat by him on the bed, "Cas, that might be easier, it always easier to run. But that hurts more in the long run, the regret will eat you up."

"So what would you want me to do Sam? Go back with you so he can ignore me, or be uneasy whenever I'm around? That isn't a solution, that…that would be cruel for me Sam. The answer is no. I am not going back with you."

"I can't speak for Dean Cas, but you're my friend too. I won't let you go back to the streets, not in the dead of winter." Sam thought for a moment, "so you don't want to go back to the bunker, fine. There's still Rufus's old cabin, you can live there. It isn't much, but it has books, a fireplace, hot water. We hardly ever use it now, and it's safe too."

He mulled it over. The cabin was in an isolated, secure and a warded location. He could winter there, and if need be, he could use it as a jump off point while he gathered himself for his next move. "That would be acceptable Sam."

Sam let out a relived breathe he was holding, "ok, great. Let's go before Dean gets back. I already have the paperwork discharging you."

He nodded while Sam got up and got him his cleaned clothes from the bag he brought earlier. The illness he had been plagued with is receding, but he still felt very tired and weak. However, the faster he can get out of here, the better. Calling for the nurse, he was ready to leave this sad place.


	10. Chapter 10

He was at a bar a couple blocks from the hospital trying to drink away his sorrows. It was early afternoon so there wasn't a crowd at all, only the regulars and the alcoholics, he being the latter. He had to walk to the bar since his car was full of _his_ stuff. The last thing he needed to be reminded about is how Cas was going to leave again. After he had his second shot, he got a message from Sam telling him he's taking the car and won't be back for a couple days. Obviously Sam was siding with ex-angel so he didn't bother to reply. He could use a break from his 'let's talk about our feelings' brother. Easy enough to find a room for himself, preferably one with magic fingers, go on a bender, or ever better, find a pretty girl. It's been a long ass time since he got laid, maybe all he needed some release.

* * *

After he had been disconnected from all the machines, Sam filled out the rest of his paperwork discharging him. They gave him some medications to take as he was on the mend but not full healed. Apparently Sam went back to his abode and got the rest of his stuff. In the trunk he saw his tent and meager supplies that he had gathered for the winter. It was weird being in the Impala without Dean, as he had never been in it with just Sam. Dean very rarely let him take the car or drive, only allowing Sam to do so if they needed to drive straight though to case.

The ride started mostly quiet apart from him talking to a woman named Charlie. She was making him some fake ID's and a paper trail apparently at Sam's request. With such items, he can in time perhaps find a more permanent and legal job he could work at. For now, he would lie low still in the cabin. It still had some lore he could read so he could actually do some research to perhaps help his brethren. He asked Sam about them and he went on how Abaddon is trying to get to them, and a working relationship they had with Ezekiel. It was good to hear that at least one member of his family was helping the Winchesters since he could no longer do so.  
It was a long drive from Denver to where the cabin was. So they stayed overnight in a cheap hotel. Since he fell, he hadn't actually slept on a bed besides the hospital. Now he had a queen size all to himself and it felt too big. When Sam was asleep, he moved to the floor between the bed and wall. Habit he guessed from being on the streets. Concealed places meant safety, where thieves and lawmen were sure to overlook him while he slept. He had also picked up the habit of being a light sleeper and able to fall asleep nearly on command. He awoke to Sam's panicked voice calling for him. He thought he ran off, which, he almost did once or twice during the night.

It was later in the day when they arrived at the cabin. The boys hadn't used it in nearly a year since they moved into the bunker. They stopped at a gas small grocery several miles from the place, easily within walking distance. It had already snowed though here, and walking in an area where storms can gather quickly was not advisable. They bought plenty of supplies, and he had his own stash as well. On the plus side, there was plenty of wood and hot water, and thanks to some ingenious method, free electricity. Compared to his tent, this rundown cabin was a palace.

"So…you all set up here Cas?" Sam asked as he hauled the last bundle of blankets inside.

He looked around, visually checking his stuff. "Yes, I think I am good."

"Great. Well, the TV gets bad reception but the library is…uh, all over the place. I think you're good on food. Oh and here." Sam pulled out his wallet, gave him cash and a credit card. "I wouldn't use the card often, so keep it for an emergency. Charlie and I will find a way to get you your stuff up here."

"Thank you Sam." he replied as he stuffed the money in his pocket. "I think here I can focus on maybe solving some of my mistakes."

Sam nodded, "that's cool, just keep in touch. You still got you phone right?" He pulled it out to show Sam. "Good, call if you need anything, and be safe of course."

"Before you go Sam…could you change my number? I…I would prefer not to have Dean contact or locate me."

He crossed his arms, "you sure about that Cas? I mean, he might want to apologize or something. Look, I know he can be an ass sometimes, but he does care about you Cas."

"But not in the same way I do for him Sam. Isn't that why I am here?"

Sam huffed, "you can't cut him out of your life forever Cas."

He looked down, "I don't want to either, but…it's best if minimal contact is made between us. Until I have better control over my emotions. For now…this is preferable."

Throwing up his arms a little, Sam sighed, "your call man. Just remember I'm here for you too and I also care for you ok?"

He looked at the tall man, "I know Sam. Thank you for what you have done."

"That's what family is for Cas." Sam walked over and gave him a hug. "You take care now alright?"

"Will do." he replied. Sam smiled a bit before heading back out the door. He heard the rumble of the Impala as it started and he watched Sam go from the window. Turning back into the cabin, he set about cleaning it up. If this was going to be his home in the meantime, he'll have to keep up the maintenance.

* * *

He spent the day Sam and Cas left almost entirely in the bar. In the late evening a younger crowd came in and he spied a couple women looking at him. Since he got from Purgatory, he wasn't keen as he used on finding a one night lay. Also the bunker was not exactly a place you take a lady to, being a secret society headquarters, complete with dungeon. That was still occupied by one sassy deposed king of hell.

Eventually a nice curvy brunette made her way over to him and they flirted with each other. It didn't matter that she had blue eyes like Cas, though his were a deep blue. Hers were pretty, but it didn't hold a candle to his. Chiding himself for letting him think about _him_ again, he tried to focus into getting into her pants. All he needed was one good lay, that'll reassure him that he's straight still. A completely straight guy who loved to give the ladies a good time. So what if a guy had a crush on him, he knew he was freaking adorable. He's open to the appreciation and the flattery, but not an actual outright declaration of love. The woman…what's her name, Melody he thinks, gave him an upset look. Damn, he got lost in thinking about that dumb angel and his gay dilemma! He smiled sweetly at her and offered to buy her a drink, which she declined, instead offering to make him a drink at her place.

Patting himself on the back mentally for somehow pulling this off, he followed her to her apartment which was only a couple blocks away. Once inside, they began making out pretty heavily…but he wasn't enjoying this. Even they moved to the bed and she was artfully sucking him off, he wasn't getting it up. Excusing himself because obviously nothing was going to happen, he left to go back to his room. Maybe it was just a case of whiskey dick, he had been drinking all day after all. Though this was embarrassing as hell, he actually wasn't ashamed or anything. Maybe sex was just not on the menu tonight. Oh well, there was still a big bottle of whiskey at the motel waiting for him. That he can enjoy just fine.

The next morning, he woke up with a killer hangover. Taking some aspirin and water, he headed into the shower. The failure to launch the previous night was a fluke, but to be extra sure, he began to think about the vintage porn he found in the bunker. The water pressure sucked ass, but at least he didn't have to worry about using up all the hot water as he masturbated. That wasn't doing it though, so he thought of his own exploits, like Cassie and other women through the years…but all he got was semi-hard. At this rate, he was going to chafe himself by the time he could unload. If this was because of Cas he thought, and then…then he felt a small twinge in his heart.

So Cas liked, no, loved him. Love love, not lust, not puppy love, but the real deal. Man had died for him enough times to prove his loyalty to him. But why now? Is he now just realizing it because he's human? He remembered when he made love to Anna, how she was enraptured by the sensual sensation, how the emotions danced on her face. Cas now had that capability, but he suspected…well, others had blatantly told him, that Cas had loved him _before_ he became human.

But he never acted on it, he never made overtures to him about being romantic or anything. Maybe it was his grace, or just being a plain nerd that prevented Cas from knowing what he was feeling. All the angels he's encountered never understood what it was to be human, because they weren't. Even most monsters and demons started out as human in the beginning. Angels though, they were…cold, calculating and brutal. Exactly what warriors should be.

Cas though, something was different about him from day one. Yeah, at first he was a dick, but he pulled through in the end. Meg called him his boyfriend and even Balthazar said Cas was in love with him. And he guessed, he cared for the guy too. Ok, he might almost…almost did say 'I love you' in Lucifer's crypt, so he was aware of it too. At least on a subconscious level.

Could he ever be attracted to Cas in _that_ way though? Cause loving someone usually involves sex somewhere along the line, and he doesn't know if he can, or ever could handle it. Sure, Cas was good looking, just as sexy as him, even if he had no idea on how to use it. Maybe…maybe he should try something. He doesn't know where the idea came to him, and he hoped to god it didn't work.

Slowly, he started stroking himself again. He thought of Cas's eyes, they always grabbed him, always held his gaze like they were trying to read each other. The stubble of the beard in the hospital, how warm he was in Purgatory when he hugged him. The imagined his deep voice and that somewhat freaky but hilarious smile he gave sometimes. That one time he appeared naked covered in bees…and he saw everything. Oh dear God, he was rock hard. But he was so happy to know his dick still worked, he didn't mind it was because he was remembering Cas naked that turned him on. The bees didn't cover everything, and he got a good look at Cas's junk. Cas only looked small in that huge coat of his, but he wasn't…wait, was he thinking about a dick? Didn't matter, he was to immersed in the memory, that cheesy smile, the eyes, his warm skin….everything Cas. And when he came, it was awesome because he was beginning to imagine those pink chapped lips kissing him.

Once the orgasmic bliss faded, his mind reminded him of what he had just done. He had just jacked off on thinking about Cas. One side wanted to hunt him down and throttle him, the other half wanted to see what else he can do with Cas. It was disturbing how his mind clearly and quickly recalled the assets the angel offered. The fact remained though, he _could_ get off with Cas, even if it's in his mind. That proved to himself at the very least, he was also attracted to the ex-angel. Maybe not to the same level Cas had for him, but _something_ was there. Oh yeah, it was called a profound bond.

It was later in the evening when Sam returned to the motel. He was waiting for him since Sam messaged him he was coming back that day. Sam would probably storm in here, berate him and want to talk about feelings again. Well, he's a big boy and he can figure his own shit out sometimes without Sam's help. After his revelation (and much needed relief) in the shower, he think he could come to terms with, whatever he and Cas had. He spent the day just…thinking, about everything. Especially how he was being a asshole to the only other person who loved him as much as Sam, Bobby and his parents did.

He wasn't disappointed. Sam opened the door in a dramatic fashion with his classic bitchface on. Before Sam could get a word out, he simply cut to the point. "Sam, don't bother. I care for him too and I know I was being a douchebag."

As expected, Sam was shocked at him saying anything in regards to his emotions. "You do?" was all Sam could say.

"Yeah…well, I don't know what that means. But Cas…it's just him." He looked at his brother with a hard look through and lowered his voice, "that don't make me gay though. He's family, and what he and I got? I don't know. But I want him in my life more than I want him out. So there."

Sam crossed his arms and sat at the edge of the bed across from him. "So…you're going to apologize to him then?"

He sighed, "maybe. I mean, I don't know yet. This is all confusing. You don't just tell another man you love him, that kinda got sprung on me. And don't you breathe a word to this to anyone else. Not even Charlie. I know you two gossip it up when you go do you hair." Sam blushed. "Cas…he loves me, that's ok. I've been ogled by plenty of guys in the past."

"But he does more than that Dean. He is seriously head over heels over you, like bad. Cas is _sincere _in his love for you to the point that he's willing to sacrifice his happiness so you can be happy." Sam replied. "And he said you _kissed_ him. Did you kiss him Dean?"

Apparently Cas told him about that. Eh, cat's out of the bag. "Yeah, I did. I don't know why I did though. It just…kinda came over me. He looked at me all sad and I wanted to make him feel better and rest." That sacrifice part though sounds like Cas, sacrificing himself again. "I don't deserve happiness like that, not at that cost." he said looking at the carpet. "And it's not fair to him either. Seriously, I'm flattered, but what if I'm…I'm not good enough for him?"

"So you're willing to give it a try with him Dean? That's the only way you guys can figure it out."

He rubbed his head. Alright, he admitted he cared for Cas, maybe love him too, if only as his best friend at the very least to Sam. The shower earlier showed him that he can overcome the physical barrier of Cas being a dude in regards to sex. And finally, they already had a relationship of sorts. "I guess." he shrugged, "give it try and see how it goes. Oh god, I can't believe I'm convincing myself to go on a date with a guy."

Sam chuckled making him look back up at him with a glare that stopped Sam. He was still smiling though, "let me ask you this Dean. If Cas was in a female vessel, but did everything the same way, from saving you, us, becoming god, same quirks and habits, would you feel different?"

Damn Sam and his humongous brain. "I guess…not." he said hesitantly.

"Ok, good. Remember Dean, angels are genderless. Cas said it himself, he is oblivious to sexual orientation. It's not gay, it's just love." Sam explained.

He rolled his eyes, "ok, I get it. Still, if he was in a female vessel, this would be way easier."

"If he was in a female body, you probably would've banged him a long time ago." Sam said with a smirk.

He huffed a little and smiled, "yeah, probably." The atmosphere was back to the usual camaraderie the brothers usually had. "Where is he?"

With that question, Sam sighed, "he wants to be left alone Dean. Maybe it's best for a while, give you both some breathing room."

Does Sam ever get tired of being right? "I suppose, but if you're still talking to him, can you at least tell him I'm not mad at him anymore?"

Sam smiled, "that I can do."

"And he's safe, not on the streets?" Sam nodded. "And he's not going to run off?"

"Don't think so, he's in a good place and he promised to stay put. He'll be fine Dean, just…give it a little bit of time alright."

"Yeah…ok." Dean replied. Sam was way too OK with this, but he had his support at least. As long as Cas was safe, he can deal with it for a while. There was still a lot of work to do, with Abaddon and the like. He also needed to prepare himself for a talk that he and Cas needed.


	11. Chapter 11

In the months since he had arrived, he had read nearly half of the books in the cabin. His memory retention had not been affected by his being human, though some of his earliest angelic memories did seem a bit hazy when he recalled them. Within a couple of weeks of arriving Sam had sent him a laptop with instructions on how to set up something called a video chat. Teleconferencing was becoming his preferred way of communication with the bunker, though Sam and Kevin went to pains to avoid chatting with him when Dean was there. Sometimes though, he heard him and he winced every time he heard him.

Besides that though, he was contributing what he could to the team in regards to lore and strategic advice from his end. Kevin especially asked for his help in trying to understand the angel tablet. Also he was able to see this Charlie and she was more than happy to finally see him. She rambled at length about how dreamy he was and thanked him for all he had done. Apparently she had read the books that Chuck was still mysteriously publishing. None of them talked about him coming to the bunker, and the subject of Dean was utterly taboo.

In his own time, which was all the time, he read. Not only was he reading lore, but there were technical manuals and how-to guides as well. He also allotted himself time to just watch TV. Even though he viewed it as superfluous hobby, the majority of people did watch it. Figuring it was the best to acclimate himself with 'pop' culture. He had grown attached to a show called _Downton Abbey_ and the complex social interactions its characters provided. With the laptop, he was able to browse the internet as well since he learned how to do that at the library.

It was a daily struggle on the streets to survive, and it left little time for him to fully learn what it means to be human. Being homeless taught his self-reliance and resilience, but not so much about culture. Or anything regarding intimate physical touch either. Not that he had shame, he knew it was a social taboo at least to be naked or aroused in public. Even when he had his own tent, he ignored truly exploring his body.

Now he had the time to do so. He hadn't had thought about it until about a week after he had been. The dream he had was a pleasant one, featuring Dean and it was of a more erotic nature. He had woken up obviously aroused by it. Instead of ignoring it as he had before, he tentatively explored himself. Previously when this happened, he didn't do anything besides waiting for his erection subside. He knew male methods of self-gratification can become messy and he was somewhat shy of doing such an intimate thing even in the tent city.

Discarding all his clothing, he recalled the dream and previous dreams he had of Dean. And not just the dreams, but also actual memories, like Dean's laugh, his hand on his face. From there, he was surprised on how agile his mind was in creating new fascinating fantasies and its effects on his libido. His breathing slowed, and he felt warm and running his hands over his chest, his nipples were pert. Slowly, he grabbed hold of his erect penis, how engorged it felt, the weight and the velvety smoothness of the shaft. The pressure even his slight hold made him buck slightly. When he swiped the head of his cock with his thumb, especially under the glans, the wave of pleasure cascaded over him. He just wanted friction, plain and simple, so he began stroking up and down with one hand while the other he explored other parts of his body. All the while, he kept a vision of Dean, imagining him watching him, pretending it was his hand on him. Eventually, he used both hands and made a fist that he madly pumped into with his hips. When he reached orgasm, he screamed out Dean's name as the world blew into blinding white.

He panted for several minutes afterwards, just reveling in what he just experienced. If this was what the goal of having physical relations with other persons was, he now knew why humans sought it so often. It was extremely relaxing, even the rest of the day went by pleasantly enough. His natural curiosity he indulged in looking for more information in such matters. Googleing the terms for masturbation and self-pleasure brought forth a whole plethora of articles, videos and pictures. Needless to say, he found that he had to relieve himself a couple more times that day.

Every time he did so though, he imagined Dean. It was always Dean that invaded not only his fantasies, but also his thoughts in whatever task he was doing. He knew that he loved Dean, and the more he learned about human social customs, he knew more on why Dean had a difficult time understanding his attraction. There was no way he was going to let these feelings go, but he could learn to bury them. It worked for Dean, so he could do it too. If Dean ever came back in his life, he was going to be the Cas Dean remembered, not the person he is now.

* * *

There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think about Cas, if only for a second. Even if some of those days he was running for his life or hunting for an ancient relic. Everyone, and by everyone he meant Sam, insisted that he give Cas some space. He could do that. So he admitted to himself that there was some attraction between him and the ex-angel. Didn't know if that would translate into a relationship or whatever, but Cas was still his best friend. He's still pretty sure he's straight, but beating you meat thinking about another dude might say otherwise.

Cas at the very least deserved to go out with him to make up for him being an ass. He's not calling it a date, but just hanging out doesn't seem the right term. Going on a date, or whatever, he had no idea on what to do, let alone a _gay _date…thing. Dean doesn't do dates, he does cheesy pickup lines. Clubs and dancing is not his thing, neither is the whole being romantic thing. He skips dating and goes straight to the bedroom. Which he wants to avoid at all costs, it's one thing thinking about it, another actually doing it.

He knew that Sam and the others were keeping in contact with him. The number that Cas originally called him on has since been disconnected. There was one day he walked into the library unseen and he heard Cas's voice. His heart leapt at the thought that Cas was in the bunker, but when he peeked in, he say that it was coming from the laptop that Kevin had in front of him. Cas was making good on his word in not dealing with him.

As the weeks drew by, he threw himself into his various missions, hitting the road as often as possible. He had figured out that Cas could only be at the old cabin, and he had thought of heading up there to see him. Talking himself down though, he never went through with it. Not until Christmas was around the corner. They had been in the bunker for almost three days straight and he was going stir crazy. Sam wanted to sit out on another road trip again, citing a cold he had gotten. So he went off alone lying about a possible wendingo sighting.

Before he headed up there, he stopped by the store to get some stuff. He wasn't good with gifts, but he can cook. Doubting that Cas had learned cook, so he can make him his now sought after burgers. Getting to the cabin was a little difficult as there was snow on the road, but he made it. Putting the Impala in park, he turned off the engine and took a deep breathe.

* * *

He was inside moaning softly Dean's name pleasuring himself when he heard a knock on the door. Shaking off his fantasy, he quickly put on just some sweat pants and got a silver knife. Looking out the window, he saw the familiar car and he froze. It was either Sam, Dean or both. But Sam would have told him he was coming. Which means it could only be Dean…or someone pretending to be Dean. There was a louder knock. He checked the two bottles by the door and the knife he had was silver. Opening the door quickly he threw the holy water and cleaning solution at Dean.

"Cas! What the hell!" Dean said as he wiped his face. "It's cold as shit out there and you throw water on me?" Since he wasn't in pain, he just handed Dean the knife and crossed his arms.

"I thought you of all people would appreciate my precautions. Now cut yourself Dean." He didn't know to be upset or happy with Dean being here, so he was being cautious.

Sighing, Dean held out his arm and gave himself a shallow cut, "there happy?" Then Dean looked him over and blushed. "Uh…Cas, can you…um, put some more clothes on?"

"No. I am quite comfortable." He had actually gotten used to being naked, and he preferred to not wear clothes if he could. Possibly a leftover trait when he was insane, but being confined in a body was bad enough, clothes just added insult. If this was making Dean uncomfortable, then so be it.

Dean turned a deeper shade of pink at that, but he didn't say anymore as he let Dean in. He was also carrying a bag that he set on the small dinner table. Turning around, he looked around the place. "You fixed this place up?"

"Yes. I even repaired that leak the bathroom faucet had and cleaned out the clogs in the drains. May I offer you a drink? I have tea or water only."

"Naw, I brought beer. Want one?" Dean offered grabbing the pack out the bag. He nodded and Dean handed him one too. Dean kept his gaze away from his bare chest, but on his face. He reached out and ran his hand on his beard. "Still not shaving it eh?" He grabbed Dean's wrist.

"Dean, don't." As much as he wanted Dean to touch him, he can't let him. If he lets him do even this, he would just Dean even more. This little signals Dean gives were confusing, and he can't deal with it. "I am happy to see you, but what do you want?"

He dropped his arm frowning, "I came to see you Cas."

"And did Sam tell you where I was?" he asked crossing his arms, giving the pretense he was upset.

"No, it doesn't take a genius to figure out where he put you. Listen Cas, I…I just wanted to talk. If you're ok with that, if not, I'll go if you want me to."

Sighing, he sat down at on the chair, "no, you can stay Dean. It's almost dark and the roads here are icy."

Dean smiled, "cool." He sat down across from him and chugged his entire beer. "I'm sorry," he said looking right him once he put the beer down.

He tilted his head, "sorry for what Dean?"

"For leading you on Cas. For not being there when you needed me. I'm sorry for that." Dean reached over and took another beer. "It's…umm, not every day a guy tells me he loves me."

"Those feelings haven't changed Dean, nor do I expect them to. I cannot help how I feel Dean. But, I can control them, maybe in time, move beyond them. Looking on what's happening out there, I need to get back out there to help. I've had enough time hiding, my brothers and sisters need my help and so do you."

"Yeah, true, we do need your help." Dean opened the second bottle and took a long swig. "But I…uh, I'm ok with you. You liking me." He took another drink. "It's weird, but…it's kinda…mutual?"

Squinting his eyes, "what are you saying Dean?" If Dean was being honest, and not pulling his chain as the saying goes, that would be…remarkable.

Dean finished the second bottle and got up. He reached into the bag again and brought out a bottle of whiskey. Getting two glasses, he sat back down and poured them each a shot. "What I'm saying Cas is…I''m…." he took a shot and poured himself another one, "I'm attracted to you too. Don't know if it's something to do with that ever bond we have, but I…need you." He took another shot.

That was a revelation that made his heart skip. He also took a shot and smiled at Dean while he poured them both another one.

* * *

Two beers and three shots in under five minutes, that was a lot even for him. He thought this would be easy but he needed hunters helper to get through this one. Now that it was over with and the truth was out there, he felt relieved. Seeing that Cas was smiling, he let his eyes wander across the other man's chest. Cas didn't have much muscle as he did, but his pecs were visible but his nipples too small that what he's used to. Oh god, he needed to change the subject.

"So…what were you doing before I came?"

"Masturbating." Cas replied casually. He nearly spit out the whiskey, but he needed it to do down not out. He looked at the smirking man across from him once he was sure he could keep it down.

"Ah…ok. Got that one figured out apparently."

Cas just nodded, "yes, I find it pleasurable. There was little privacy to fully…appreciate my body before in the city."

"So…you still didn't…you know."

"No. I have not engaged in sexual relations with anyone else Dean." Cas answered, "I believe that an emotion connection is needed to fully enjoy the act of sex in itself. As such, I have been…chaste. Self-gratification though is not a sin, contrary to many religions, and one I am happy to partake in." Cas looked at him what looked like an impassive face, but there was something in his eyes that he couldn't quite place while when Cas added. "I would like to engage in sex someday, I hear it is quite enjoyable with another person."

He got that right, "oh yeah, it is." Getting up and headed to the stove, he turned his back to Cas while he began unpacking the bag completely. "Figured you've been living off canned crap, so I thought I might make you my famous burgers." Maybe if he started cooking, he could distract himself from looking at a half-naked Cas who was talking about sex.

He felt a hand on his shoulder that spun him around and suddenly he was facing Cas who was entirely to close. His face was right up to his and their eyes said everything. Cas's held a deep memory, of someone ancient who has experienced sorrow and heartbreak. Cas saw through his empty bravado and had seen his sad guilt ridden soul. And then suddenly Cas moved in and began kissing him, stroking his check with one hand while the other gripped him closer into his bare chest.

And he…he kissed back.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean was drinking, which was not unusual, but he never drank fast or that much. Two beers and three, wait, now four shots. That was too much in too little time even for him, and Cas knew that it was because he was nervous. He found that many humans used alcohol as a crutch to do something, ranging from singing a song to just getting through the day. In this case, it was because Dean thought it would ease his time talking to him. In which he revealed he also has an attraction to him.

He knew enough human, or in this case, western culture, to know that homosexual attraction is frowned upon in general. But tolerated mostly, and there has been significant progress in it becoming more accepted. However, in the sub-culture of hunters, it is still lagging behind. Dean grew up in that culture, and knew it was difficult for him to reconcile his attraction for him with the upbringing he had. Sam on the other hand was accepting and progressive, ready to adapt and change. Dean is not as flexible.

One thing about Dean though, is that Dean is a man of action. Not the best at words, he let his actions speak for themselves. When Dean kissed him back in the hospital, it was a chaste kiss of good will, but it was also his way of showing Cas he cared very much for him as well. Small touches here and there, and the occasional hug, that was his way of showing his love. So for Dean to even admit he was attracted to him and saying it…well, that was a miracle.

So what possessed him to kiss Dean without warning? Because he knew Dean would appreciate that…or hate it. You can't force him to do anything he doesn't want. Not even an archangel could do that. He's only kissed Meg before and therefore had an idea on what to do. He looked into Dean's eyes though before he did. This bond they had, it was something words cannot describe, so he didn't even try. He just did.

Dean's lips were warm, and soft and tasted of whiskey, but sweet. Gripping him with his left hand, he forced Dean to come closer to him. With his other, he caressed the five o'clock shadow on his face. It was a split second that lasted for eternity, waiting for Dean's response.

Which when it came, it was like a dam bursting through. Dean kissed back with a lot of force, using his tongue to open his mouth and feel the inside. Dean pushed forward, making him walk backward a bit before he hit the wall. Dean used a free hand to feel his spine and push them even closer together. The sounds he was making, they were both making, was very arousing. The warmth of the hand left his back as Dean pulled his jacket off, making the kiss end.

* * *

When it was off, Dean stopped and stepped back. Cas just kissed him out of the blue, and he kissed _back. _Maybe the drinks had an effect on his judgment, but it felt so god damned good he wanted more. He wanted to feel more of Cas, and he wanted to be touched more. He looked over at Cas again, who was panting and had lust blown eyes. There was also a very obvious indicator that their kiss turned Cas on. A lot.

His brain was firing off way to many confusing signals, and he was paralyzed momentarily. He needed a drink one thought called out, if only to buy him a moment. So he turned around and poured another shot from the bottle still on the table, he used the chair to give him some balance. He full on kissed a dude back, and there was no point in trying to pretend it was a girl, because girls don't tent their pants. Putting the glass down and put both hands on the chair leaning on it for support. Then he felt Cas behind him again, but he sensed hesitation coming from him in waves. At least he wasn't the only one.

Turning around, he looked at the slightly shorter man. The lust had left his eyes, and they had returned to their normal weary but beautiful blue. "Cas…I don't know if I can do this. This…it's too much man." The poor man practically deflated, and he couldn't take responsibility if doing that. Cas cast his gaze downward and he swore, there might have been a small tear falling. So he stepped forward closing the small space between them.

Lifting up his chin, Dean saw that yes indeed, Cas was tearing up, but his tenseness attested to how he was trying to preserve any dignity. Shit. Well, one has to learn to swim to save a friend by jumping in the water, he was going to do it all the way and right. Leaning in, he kissed Cas softly on the lips and used his hands at his side to gently being Cas closer to him.

* * *

There was very little pressure Dean had put on his lips, like he was being careful to not break him. Which would be difficult human or not. Regardless, Dean was kissing him. _He_ initiated it this time. There were calloused hands at his sides right above his hips, bringing him closer. How was going to resist? But this...Dean saying no but then kissing him, this was confusing and frankly, he was tired of it.

Pushing Dean back slightly, he looked at the surprised hunter, "Dean, I can't take these mixed signals of yours. You know I do not grasp human subtleties at the best of times. A minute ago you said you can't do this, and then you kiss me." His heart arched, and he felt sad, angry, horny and happy all at once. He looked at Dean with wistful eyes, "please Dean, if you care at all for me, just…just tell me if you want this. That you want me."

God dammit, he was sending confusing messages to the damned angel. Well, if he was it was because he was confused! He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Dammit Cas, I don't freaking know! All I know is..." oh god, he was going to say it, "…I need you." He couldn't look at the man, and he had to face away closing his eyes when he said it.

Slowly he opened his eyes to peek how Cas took that one. Because he felt a whole bit lighter. Cas though, he looked like someone gave him shiniest biggest present at a birthday party. Then he realized that _he_ was the present.

"Dean…" was all Cas said as he practically jumped on him, kissing him again. The guy radiated happiness now and it was certainly infectious because he was too for some weird reason. Ok, so he said those big three words to a dude…who was _Cas_, his Cas, and that was not great…it was awesome. Cas then moved his face a little bit from his and they both looked at each other's eyes. God, he was…handsome? No, that wasn't the right word, Cas is downright beautiful.

Cas then ran a hand across his face and it felt great, and then he moved into kissing his neck. He was a little sloppy, but somehow, he knew one of his sweet spots and he couldn't help out a small groan. That apparently spurred the angel on as he then licked behind his ear and bit his earlobe a little bit. Holy shit, it was like Cas had a manual on how to rev him up.

Cas was also close…as in against him now, he could feel Cas through the sweat pants on his thigh. His own groin was making it obvious it liked where this was going. "Cas…" he breathed heavily, "slow…down." Pulling back, Cas looked at him with fake puppy eyes, as if they were asking why? He didn't want to this to go to fast. Cas was inexperienced in this stuff after all…well so was he when it came to all this…gay stuff. But he still had practical experience with his own body, so he should take lead here.

However, Cas didn't get that memo because he was already leading him to the small side room where the bed was. How did he manage that? Once there, Cas more or less pushed him against the wall and began to make out with him heavily. In that, he was more than happy to comply and tried to show Cas how a pro does it. The deep and earthy moans Cas was making was just somehow spurring him on.

Stopping for a moment to catch a breath, they once again looked at each other, but in a new light. This was happening, he was making out, getting hard and wanting more from a guy. And he loved it. This is different from women, even Cassie or Lisa. This was _Cas_ and it just made him quiver with anticipation all the things he wanted to show his best friend. Reaching up, he petted the soft beard he had and though it tickled, it tickled in a good way. Still shaving the damn thing off though.

Seeing that it was time to resume, Cas basically brought his lips into his neck, obviously intent on leaving a hickey there. In the meantime, when he wasn't panting like a cheap whore, he was kneading Cas's very nice and very firm ass. When he slipped on hand under the waistband, Cas bucked against him a bit. Apparently it was enough to make him stop from marking him further, and Cas very quickly reached down and pulled his Henley off him.

"I remember constructing your body…and touching your soul, but I never…" Cas said, "never did I know that touching you was so pleasurable."

He huffed, "if that's your idea of dirty talk Cas, we might have to work on that." Smiling Cas didn't respond but ran his hands over his chest. When he ran his left hand on his ribs, he pushed slightly on the third one down, which even he didn't know was a tickle spot. After he giggled, and yeah, he giggled, he took Cas's wrists from trying to do that again. "Not fair Cas! It's like you know every sweet spot I have."

Looking positively smug, "well Dean, I _did_ rebuild you…I did you make you better from before. Better, stronger, faster."

"Did you just quote _Six Million Dollar Man_?"

"I might have…." oh he was going to wipe that grin off his face. "If you want Dean…you can find my 'sweet spots'."

"Ok…now that's dirty talk." he replied before pushing Cas onto the old spring bed.

* * *

He was lying on his back now, and he was certainly trying to put all the knowledge he had to good use. So he might have cheated a little bit knowing where some of Dean's favored erogenous zones were. When Dean climbed on top of him, it wasn't at the frenzied pace it was a moment ago. The kiss was long and deep, and he didn't want it to end. This was more sensual and he had the feeling that Dean was trying to teach him something about patience. Deferring to Dean's experience, he went along wherever Dean directed.

Which was basically to lie still, which was really hard with Dean having his hands and tongue free reign on his body. They shared the same erogenous zone on the left clavicle he discovered, and when Dean pinched his nipples with his teeth…that got a loud moan. He nearly reached up to grab onto Dean and feel more of him too but Dean pinned his arms down. Now he was just using his tongue, lips and teeth all across his chest…neck…and finally back to his lips.

His dick was painfully hard, and staining against the flimsy material. Dean was still had him down though, and kissing him. When he broke the kiss to take a breathe, he used the small distraction to reverse their positions. Now Dean was on his back and smiling his goofy smile he gave when he was really happy.

Cas knew about foreplay, and understood it was primarily used to inflame arousal so the actual act of sex can begin. However, he wasn't thinking that far in advance, all he wanted was to feel more of Dean. He scooted down and began unbuckling Dean's belt and pants. Once the fly was down, he took his time savoring every inch of exposed skin when he dragged the clothes off Dean.

Once Dean was naked, he looked at him and saw that Dean looked truly flushed and a tad nervous. He knew Dean had never been intimate with another man before, and technically, so was he. Shucking off his own last article of clothing, there was a moment of silence as they both pondered what to do next.

* * *

His brain kind went blank. He was naked. Cas was naked. In a bed. Before, that was fun. But now…naked. He was hard, so was Cas. Supposedly, they both knew what to do with their dicks. However, he wasn't about to fucked and he didn't know if Cas wanted to bottom. Hell, he even hadn't thought about this…though of course was going to bottom. That one time a girl played with his ass was not cool. And hell if he's going to take that thing in him!

While he was having his little brain freeze though, Cas solved the problem by taking him and started to slowly stroke him. It was slow, and not tight enough, but hey….oh god, he had another man stroking him off! Looking up at Cas though, seeing how fixated he was on trying to make him feel good, and it did feel good , he propped himself up. Well, if Cas was doing this, it was only polite to return the favor.

Cas let go for a moment while he settled on knees and Cas mirrored him. They were less than a foot from each other, enough to see each other wholly but close enough to feel the body heat. Reaching out, he took Cas's cock and for a while, just felt the heavy warm weight of the engorged penis. Cas was bigger lengthwise, but he had more girth. Was he admiring another man junk? Why yes, yes he was. Drawing on what he knew felt good to him, he tried to replicate them on Cas. Swiping the head under the glans so often, pulling the skin back as much as he could, these things he tried out. And Cas loved them by the lewd noises he was making. Cas was doing the same to him as well and for a while, they just did this with one hand while the other explored each other and kissing. It was easy, felt good and god, did it feel right. Sure, all the other times were great, even more exciting than this. This was Cas though, a man who saved him, died for him, loved him.

Cas pushed him down and took both of their dicks in his long fingers and rubbed them together and stroking while he was on his back. He wasn't going to last much longer, though it was…different to feel another penis against his own. Different, but it felt awesome. Cas was panting and obviously trying to hold it in.

"Cas…" he breathed heavily, realizing he was close too, "just let it go buddy…go for it" Cas leaned down and kissed him as they nearly simultaneously came together. Surprisingly, he expected Cas to be loud when he came, but no, it was a long slow drawing out of his name. And damn, he did the same with Cas's name, watching the angel come undone before his eyes as the hot cum spurted onto his stomach.

Pulling Cas down for one more slow kiss, Cas laid himself directly on him. He had never felt so close to anyone before, and now that he had experienced this, there was no way he was giving this up. Cas laid his head in the nook of his neck and kissed him lazily as he drifted off to sleep. Tired from the drive, the alcohol and now this, he followed suit.


	13. Chapter 13

There was something good cooking and its enticing scent immediately made his stomach grumble. It was dark outside but it was winter and looking at the clock, it was still early evening. He had just had sex. With Dean. He was still processing that, even though he could recall in perfect clarity what they did together. This was a major step for them, if this did indeed mean a 'them'. There was always the likely course that Dean would probably not want to do this again or go into a relationship. Given his history of just doing one night stands and avoidance of relationships, including the fact that this would be a homosexual one, meant it had little chance. Sighing, he wasn't going to let this sink his happiness, not yet. So for now, he's going to enjoy this.

Hopping in the shower for a brief minute to clean himself, he just put on the sweat pants he was wearing earlier and a t-shirt. Entering the main part of the cabin, he saw Dean had his back to him. All he was wearing was the grey boxers and Henley he stripped off earlier. Tilting his head, he couldn't help but smile at the Dean being so…open. He must have sensed Cas there since he turned around with two plates in his hand.

Dean was smiling, "hey Cas, made dinner. Hungry?"

Seeing that Dean made hamburgers, his mouth began watering and he stomached growled much louder than before. He had been living off ramen noodles and canned goods for the past week. These looked positively delicious. Dean laughed at his reaction and set them on the small table.

Sitting himself down, he accepted the plate and a bottle of beer from Dean before he sat across from him. He took a bite as soon as he was able to get his hands around the monstrosity. It was immensely pleasurable and he looked over at Dean who was smiling even though he was chewing too. They are in comparative silence enjoying the food and the each other's company. It wasn't until he put the dishes away that Dean spoke again.

"So…Cas, you good?" Dean asked hesitantly, "with…you know."

Turning back to Dean, he sat in the chair facing him once again. "If you're referring to the hamburger, then yes, I am quite good. It was delicious Dean."

Dean gave him a not amused look, "you know what I mean Cas."

"I assume then you are referring to us having sex for the first time. I am also good with that. Are you?" He asked with a slight tone of concern.

Dean blushed a small amount, "well, I've never done it with a dude, but…it was good." Dean shifted in his seat a little. "But it's still confusing as hell Cas, I…care for you, but…I don't know what to make of…this."

"Then don't Dean. Don't think about it, if this was a onetime occurrence, then…"

"That's the thing Cas, I don't want this to be a onetime thing. Granted, it might take some time to get used to, uh, this. But at this point Cas, I really can't think of you not being in my life at all. We've gone through so much together man, I don't want to give that up because we slept with each other. Which technically, I don't count since there was no…uh, penetrating."

He thought for a moment, it seemed that Dean was at least willing to give it a try. Give what a try was little bit more difficult to define. They had a relationship of sorts as it was, they had simply now included sex into it. "I also want to keep our relationship Dean, but I also do not know where this will go. All I know is that I love you." Dean turned away for a bit.

"It's still freaking weird to hear that from a guy, let alone you." Dean said turning back to him.

"If it makes you feel better, I am not certain what that means fully. Great thought has been put into what it means from every person across human history, and they all seem to contradict each other. It is…confusing Dean. Love just so happens to be the easiest word to describe what I feel for you."

The sides of Dean's mouth turned slightly up, "I don't think anyone really knows Cas. I'm in the blind in this as you are. But…you're right, I suppose love is the easiest word to use. It's just not easy for _me_ to use." Dean got up again, "I mean, ok….I love you too man."

He also got up and crossed the small space to Dean so they were face to face. "Love is the beauty of the soul. Your soul is beautiful Dean, you are beautiful."

"Quoting St. Augustine too Cas? Really?" Dean smirked as he ran his hand down his beard. "And we're still shaving this off."

"What? No, it keeps my face warm. " He frowned, he had grown quite fond of it, though it was itchy.

"If I'm gonna kiss you man, I don't want whiskers, they tickle."

He arched his eyebrow, "fine, but only because you're promising to kiss me again."

Dean smiled. "Deal…I brought razors and shaving cream, we can do it right now."

"And we can kiss afterwards?" He was getting a feeling of mischief from Dean. "And what do mean it doesn't count? We both reached orgasm." Then he smiled back, "though if you want to be…what's the word? Fucked, I would be more than happy to oblige."

"I ain't taking it in the ass Cas…but, uh, let's do this one step at a time ok? But another jerk off session, that I can do." Dean then turned around to get into his bag on the floor. Just then his phone rang phone from the coffee table in front of the couch. Picking it up he saw it was Sam.

"Hello?" he asked Sam.

"Cas! I think Dean's on his way to you. He said he was going on a solo wendingo hunt but I checked and there's been no sighting." Sam sounded somewhat panicked. Looking over at Dean he saw that elder hunter was already getting the stuff to shave him out of his bag.

"No need to worry Sam. He's already here." he replied once Dean was in the bathroom and he heard the water was running."

"And you're ok?"

"Yes, listen Sam, I have to go do something but I am going to give you the short version."

"Go? What? Short version? Are you ok?" Sam asked confused on the other end.

"Yes, to surmise, we fucked it out. Talk to you later Sam." He found using profanity easier since being human, and he realized that he had adopted some of Dean's crass humor. Shrugging, he headed into the bathroom.

* * *

After shaving Cas, which he had to do since the smug bastard claimed he didn't know how, they fell back into bed. How they ended up naked again somehow escaped him, but now Cas was sleeping again in his arms after they did it again. So he had sex with Cas…again. He was surprised he wasn't freaking out about this. Part of him was actually, but most of him was actually ok.

He looked at his phone which was in the pocket of his discarded jeans. Seeing that Sam blew up his phone with missed calls and texts. Cas told him that he simply informed Sam that they 'fucked it out' which was surprisingly accurate. He wished he could have seen Sam's face though, it must have been priceless. Sam wouldn't give him a hard time, he knew though his little brother would want to talk about 'feelings' again, but he didn't mind. This is something between him and Cas, and right now, it was great.

Was he going to be all dressed in rainbows shaking his ass to Lady Gaga? Hell no, but he was more than happy to be with Cas, and not just as a friend or now lover, but simply be there. No idea where this will lead to, but hell, he's had enough shit in his life. Cas just made him feel better about it, and he knew Cas needed him as much as he needed the ex-angel. There was a lot of stuff to get done, but for now, he was content. Tousling Cas's dark hair, he moved in closer to be more comfortable. Before drifting off to sleep, he thought of Cas and all the things they were going to do together. Never again will they be separated, not ever again.

* * *

A/N: And there we have mes amis, the end to this story. Technically, this is the second story I wrote since the other one was a trilogy. Now that I have gotten my feet wet, writing is not as daunting as it used to be. Thank you everyone who's read and left comments.

In regards to future work, I have already begun a new one. I like the ending of where Season 8 as a good starting point. I can see how the writers had a problem limiting Cas's powers. With him human in canon, it makes room for more complexity. Anyway, Season 9 is around the corner. Can't wait!


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